


COLLECTION: Klance Smut Prompts

by WhatTheBodyGraspsNot



Series: The Oneshots Collection [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-03-23 12:48:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13788105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot/pseuds/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot
Summary: Short one-shots from the Tumblr smut prompts. Some are full-blown smut. Others are just the build up and not actual smut.*INCLUDES*-Experienced Lance/College Kid Keith





	1. Governor's Son Lance/Mysterious Street Kid Keith

**Author's Note:**

> for sleapygazelle on tumblr!  
> 3) “I had to see you again.”  
> 22) “Your hair’s all messed up. Let me fix it.”

 

They can’t do it anymore.

Lance is the governor’s son, and Keith is-...well, he doesn’t even really _know_ who Keith is. But he’s bad news. And if they’re seen together there’ll be trouble. And they can’t do it anymore.

Lance is just gonna tell him if he ever comes around again - if he ever uses the trellis framed against the house to climb up to Lance’s bedroom window. He’s just gonna tell him that he’s grateful Keith technically saved his life that one night downtown, but he can’t keep coming to see him. Even if it’s-...even if he-...

Lance lets his book fall into his lap with a sigh. He’s not even reading this. The lamp on his nightstand is just too dim to make out the words at this point in the night anyway.

Another sigh.

Maybe Keith just won’t show up anymore. He _did_ technically leave on a weird note the last time he snuck in here. That’s not to say he doesn’t normally operate under this sort of weird, dismissive attitude that he keeps strapped tighter to himself than his jeans. It’s just...

Whatever. He probably won’t come.

Lance’s life is undeniably boring compared to what Keith’s most likely used to - arranged get-togethers - keeping appearances up - not even being able to grab a few tacos down the street without eyes on him. It makes for a... _less than thrilling_ lifestyle. So why Keith would keep coming here - keep going out of his way to see him...it just doesn’t make sense in Lance’s head.

BUT! It doesn’t matter. Because they have to stop. If he does ever show up again. Which he won’t. So it doesn’t-

_tap tap tap_

Lance’s heart spikes - his back goes rigid as he whips his head over to the window to-

Shit!

It’s not cool of him to scramble off of his bed like this, practically tripping over his own feet to get there, but he’s spent the majority of his 18 years not being cool so-

He wrenches the window open, tugging it up and ready to spit fire, but all that gusto quickly and completely fizzles out as soon as he lays eyes on him - on the cool eyes blinking back - the dark hair - dark grin - dark look casted up from where he balances smoothly on the trellis.

Keith.

Lance slaps some mental sense into himself. Get it together. “What the hell are you thinking?”

Keith’s grin turns teasing, voice hushed but cutting through the nighttime breeze that’s sweeping his bangs across his forehead. “What, you don’t want me here?”

Having it directed fully and solely at him does a really great job at pulling Lance out of reality again. Because shit... This boy is so cool and so mysterious and so _handsome_ but he’s trouble - he’s-

“I had to see you again.”

Lance’s heart aches at that. Chest aches. Other...southern regions...ache-

“You can’t be here!” That’s right. Stay focused. “Someone could see you.”

“No one’s around.”

“They could be.”

“It’s one in the morning, sweetheart.”

“I-” damn it. That works every time and Keith has to know it - has to know it and that’s why he uses it. Lance huffs, eyeing the moonlit landscaping below. This is so stupid. But- “Get in here.”

Stepping away from the window to give his intruder space to climb through also gives Lance enough space to try to regroup. To get his head right. To remind himself that he’s got a job to do. He has something to say, remember?

 _I need to talk to you._ That’s it. That’s how he’s gonna start it. Good. Okay.

Lance turns, mouth at the ready but words once again falling short at the sight of Keith leaning forward to close the window, and then facing him with a little twist of his neck to crack it.

It’s like the first time _every_ time. Like a punch to the gut. Lance has never seen anyone actually dress like a punk outside of movies. But Keith? He’s got the entire thing going for him - probably _is_ a punk - has the leather jacket...the tight black jeans ripped at the knees, the gloves that expose the concerning amount of dirt underneath his fingernails. There’s about five other pieces Lance is failing to mention because he’s currently stuck on Keith’s face - always his face. God, how can one person be so-

The determination with which Keith moves forward has Lance moving backwards on autopilot, hands coming up to either block himself or put up some space but they just end up planting on Keith’s chest as he moves him backward.

“I-” shit, now now now, “I have something to say.” No. God damn it, that wasn’t it.

Keith must not see the difference because he’s still directing Lance backward just as easily, mouth close and breath hot and wait-

Lance dips out of the line of fire - just fucking ducks and sidesteps the heavy hands and Keith’s palm is landing on the bedpost he no doubt was planning on pinning Lance against.

It’s a close call. And there’s this little spark of confusion dancing across Keith’s face. But Lance doesn’t trust himself - doesn’t trust _Keith._ And he just has to say it so: “I need to talk to you.”

He sends it out into the silence. And for one brief but terrifying moment, he sees things going south.

But then Keith turns, his blink slow, and he waits a second more before finally caving. “So talk.”

Except it’s not really caving. Because he’s staring Lance down. And being under that kind of scrutiny from a guy who Lance _knows_ has a knife on him at this exact moment isn’t exactly comforting, no matter what his dick might be trying to tell him.

“We-...” Lance takes a breath. It’s okay. Start off strong. “We can’t keep doing this.”

The total lack of emotional response in Keith is somewhat troubling. “No?”

But he keeps going. “No. We uh-...” Come on. “It’s too risky. You know? Being in this family is tricky enough and-...not that you’re not, like, a fine upstanding citizen or anything but-...uh...”

Those eyes are watching him. Trailing down his body. Coming back up again to rest where Lance is starting to have a considerably more difficult time finding his cool.

“It’s not that I don’t like... _you know...”_ (weird hand gesture) “...sleeping with you... I do. I do like-...um...”

This is derailing. This is losing traction. This is three thousand times harder in practice than it was when Lance was theorizing it in bed not too long ago.

And Keith is watching it all unfold - either retaining it or not - but he’s here, in Lance’s room, impossibly hot and shrugging his leather jacket off and tossing it onto the floor with a little metal clank from the pockets and Lance can’t help but eat it up.

Only he can’t anymore. So. “I don’t-... Do you get what I mean?”

And Keith nods, “Mhm,” and then is motioning coolly toward the bed with a single finger and a nonchalant, “Lie down.”

It’s the polar opposite direction they’re supposed to be going. Both metaphorically and physically. But Lance is nothing if not hooked, so when he opens his mouth to question, and when he receives this little eyebrow raise from Keith, not exactly mean but definitely expectant, he finds his legs carrying him over to the bed anyway.

The mattress dips as he follows instruction, pulse thick in his wrists and his ceiling the only thing caring enough to look down at him until:

“On your stomach.”

Keith’s just a floating voice. But Lance knows how the rest of him feels, so it’s not a chore to follow that instruction too, mattress springs popping under him until he’s flipped the right way. The way Keith wants him. And speaking of Keith.

The sound of fabric rustling is the only warning before both of his hands are under Lance’s hips, pulling him up just a little but _definitely_ arched forward in the perfect angle for: “Now…” he clears his throat, “what were you saying?”

And Lance can see it coming from a mile away, but so help him: “Y-...you can’t keep coming h- _hhhhha_ …” It melts on his tongue at the feeling of Keith’s mouth suddenly working over him through his pajama pants - warm and damp and _oh shit…_

“Hmm?” he hums behind him, sending the vibrations against Lance and up his spine.

Lance swallows thickly, eyes fluttering shut, but he keeps his head up because, “You being here… If someone see- _heee ohh…”_ Another swallow. “If someone...sees us… Together…”

It probably doesn’t matter _what_ he says. Keith continues to mouth at him from behind no matter what - eating him out but _not really eating him out._ And it’s already making things very difficult very quickly. Especially when he wraps his arms around Lance’s waist and tugs him up higher, Lance’s ass sticking in the air and Keith keeping his hold around him as he helps himself.

God, this is not going the way it’s supposed to. But holy shit…

“Keep talking,” Keith insists, drawing his mouth over the wet fabric.

And jesus, how is he supposed to-

No.

Lance can do this.

“Don’t-...don’t think I’m not grateful… You really saved my ass…” that last part would be funny in an ironic way if that same exact ass wasn’t currently being teased in a very real way. “It’s just...people are al- _ah..._ always watching… And I can’t do anything to-... _ohh fuck…”_

He can feel the smirk through his pajama pants. Can feel it work straight to his dick without even trying. It’s the tease of it. The very thin barrier between what Keith’s willing to give him and what Lance actually wants.

Unless…

The heat disappears. As do the hands.

Lance is about to protest when he feels the finger slip under the waistband of his sweats and give a couple tugs.

“Take these off.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. Lance really should be even a _little_ more embarrassed by how quickly he straightens and gets his pants down over his hips and then his knees and then his feet, tangling only once and only for a second before tossing them to the ground. But he’s not. Because he _wants._

The move back into position has Keith letting out a long breath behind him, Lance’s back arched and ass tilted up for him just the way it was before. And then he feels those hands on him - feels the leather of the gloves palm his ass and then spread his cheeks and-

“Mm…” the hum of appreciation that rumbles low from Keith’s chest as he looks Lance over is so fucking hot. So’s the brush of the pad of his finger over Lance’s hole - then the spit, hot and wet and maybe a little gross as it drips down Lance’s ass crack but it hardly matters when that finger is coming back again and then _pushing._ Testing. Pulling out and disappearing and then Keith’s mouth is on him again and _fuck…_

Lance’s knees buckle, his head hanging low as that tongue licks over his hole like he’s been desperate for it to. God, what is it about this guy that has Lance’s good sense melting into the floor?

“K-... Keith…”

“Keep talking.”

Lance’s eyes roll as they shut. He doesn’t know how he’s expected to say much of anything with Keith’s tongue up his ass. Unless this was Keith’s plan - fuck Lance over until he can’t talk anymore.

“You’re-...” he’s gotta get it out, gotta drag his face away from where he’s buried it in his bed sheets so he can _get it out,_ “I don’t think you’re-... _hhh ah-”_ Again. “I don’t-...think you’re listening to me…”

Keith answers with a long wet lick back up from Lance’s balls. It’s a dirty move. Made redundant by the way he ends up answering anyway. “I’m listening.”

“N-...no you’re not.”

He slides in two fingers all the way up to the leather at his knuckle. “I am. I’m hearing you say you think we should stop. What I’m _not_ hearing you say,” he crooks them up at the best angle, hitting it just right, “is that you _want_ us to stop.”

It has Lance melting, knees giving out for real this time and bringing him down onto the mattress with a groan he needs to cover up.

Shit.

“Am I wrong?”

He can’t answer like this.

“You want us to stop, you just say the word sweetheart.”

The shiver that wracks up Lance’s spine has him squeezing his eyes shut, the fingers inside him coaxing out noises that threaten to make Lance’s whole entire point very real.

But fuck, does it feel good.

“N-...no…”

“No _what…”_

“No I don’t-...want us to stop…”

Because he doesn’t. Because it’s mind numbing, the way Keith makes him feel. Fuck, if his mother wasn’t the goddamn governor they would’ve been doing this every hour on the hour, as far as Lance is concerned.

And it’s also obviously what Keith wants to hear because he’s drawing his fingers back. Tapping Lance’s thigh. Moving behind him as he says, “C’mere.”

Lance takes a second for himself before pulling up, his thighs shaking as he turns and makes his way to where Keith is on his knees at the foot of the bed.

His belt clanks against itself as he undoes it while Lance settles in front of him, and when he eases his jeans down just over the swell of his ass, Lance can’t help but stare at the way his cock springs from his boxers, ready and waiting.

“Come on,” Keith murmurs, but it’s hardly necessary.

Because Lance would be moving forward without the direction anyway, a hand wrapping around the base of Keith’s cock as he brings it up to his mouth and licks the bead of come waiting there for him.

And Keith doesn’t really... _vocalize_...too much. But when Lance swirls his tongue around the head and then swallows him down with just as little hesitation, there’s this groan that works its way from him and it does nothing but egg Lance on more.

He’s gotten good at this. He thinks so, at least. And Keith’s fingers reaching down to card through his hair are definitely helping his cause. Even when they grip a little too roughly. Or pull a bit too hard. Or come down to drag a thumb over Lance’s bottom lip, signally for him to take a second.

Lance does just that, mouth open wide as Keith slides his thumb inside and presses it down against Lance’s tongue.

He can taste the leather.

The salt.

“Relax your throat,” he murmurs, and when Lance does, he eases forward.

It’s a tight fit - Keith thumb and his dick and it’s-...he’s sliding deep, the head nudging intrusively but the look on his face is something Lance has never seen before.

“Fuck…” he pushes further - presses harder - lets his lips part as Lance chokes just a little around his cock and oh _god_ this is so dirty.

Tears prick the corner of Lance’s eyes. Spit dribbles down his chin. It’s a mess it’s a mess it’s a mess but he’s never been this hard in his life and what does that say about him?

Keith heaves one last breathy moan and then pulls out, wiping his own mouth and then the corner of Lance’s and-

“Fuck me.” It slips out. Kind of. Not really. He really needs Keith to fuck him.

Except, “Hmm…” he’s moving forward, crawling over Lance with a smirk too deadly to look at dancing across his lips. “That’s not how a governor’s son should talk, is it?”

Lance frowns, brows furrowing. “Keith-”

“I mean you’re the one so caught up on appearances, right?” He lifts one of Lance’s bare legs by the thigh - presses it to his own hip so he can line himself up. “What would it look like if someone saw the governor’s son begging for some mangy street kid to fuck him, huh?”

They’re his own words. More or less. And they’re coming back to bite Lance in the ass in the worst way imaginable.

“Please.”

“Please what. Please fuck you?”

Lance lets his head collapse back onto the mattress. “...yes, god. I’m sorry if I insulted you - I just really really need your di-”

The rest is covered by Keith’s hand - more leather - and then the very _very_ satisfying sensation of Keith sinking inside him all the way. And it’s a damn good thing he had the foresight to cover Lance’s mouth because there’s no doubt they’d be found out with how utterly the sudden pleasure wrecks him.

“Shut up, your majesty,” Keith grins at him, hand tight and hips beginning to work a quicker pace.

And under normal circumstances, Lance would kick up some sort of fuss about the nickname. But these are not normal circumstances. This is Lance laying here, body jerking upwards toward the headboard and the dick of this guy that he doesn’t even really know in his ass and his entire body is being flooded with heat and _fuck, why would Lance ever want to stop this…_

“Mmm…” he whimpers it against that stupid leather glove but he can’t even help it - is gonna come really really soon after all this ridiculous treatment.

He just hopes Keith is close too, the boy above him snapping his hips almost painfully but Lance likes the pain - is disgusted by how much he loves the stink of cigarettes that clings to Keith’s clothes - realizes, for one brief second, that he’s the only one who’s naked...

Wonders...if sleeping with _everyone_ is like this...

“Shit…” it clings to the end of Keith’s breath, his eyelids heavy and dropping closed before opening again to meet Lance’s gaze. “Fuck, you’re tight…”

Lance rips the hand away from his mouth, voice whispered but almost frantic. “I’m gonna come…” a warning sign - toes curling - heat curling - fingers curling - “I’m-...I’m g-”

It floods over him quicker than he expected - harder than usual - so fucking hot that he doesn’t even hear the tear at the back of Keith’s shirt as he clutches for dear life.

It’s full-body and addicting and he hangs onto the feeling for as long as humanly possible, Keith’s fingers at his jaw and turning his head and mouth pressing to his pulse point, and then the shuddering breath and stutter of his hips give away that he’s coming too.

Lance can feel it. The warmth filling inside him. He can feel it and it’s-... There’s nothing else like it. Nothing else like it with _Keith._

It’s risky but he wants it.

Needs it.

“You’re so fucking hot…”

Keith lazily lifts his head to throw him a little grin of amusement, very close to Lance’s own lips but-...but they don’t really do that...so… “Come out with me tonight.”

Lance lets his gaze drop. It’s dangerous to want so much all at the same time. “You know I can’t.”

“No. I know you _think_ you can’t.”

There’s a difference. Lance knows it. But… “I can’t.”

His answer stretches into the silence between them for a touch too long. And then Keith is pulling himself out. Pulling himself up. He tugs his pants up and buckles them closed at the side of the bed, bathed in the low lamplight.

And Lance, he… He _wants._ More than what he just had.

“One of these nights I’m gonna get you out with me.”

The little grin that accompanies his promise is unexpected but welcome. Especially given the impossible circumstances.

Lance pulls the sheets over himself and turns to his side to watch it as long as possible, chin propped by his hand. “You want that, don’t you.”

 _“You_ want it too,” Keith fires back, only it’s sweeter than usual. “Don’t think I can’t see through you.”

Lance’s chuckle is quiet, dismissive. “You don’t even know me…”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not trying.”

Their gaze holds there...just a little...just enough to ponder over for the next however many days before Keith comes back. And until then…

Keith shrugs his leather jacket back on, pulling his pack of cigarettes out to check the number before sliding it back in the pocket and making his way to the window. It slides open with ease, the night breeze filtering in as he goes to stick a leg through and start his descent. Except-

“Keith?” Another moment of impulse. One that Lance doesn’t really have a plan for even though he’s already gone through the step of carrying it out. So when Keith turns back, waiting for him, the words he wants to come out and the words that actually come out are two drastically different things. “Your uh-... Your hair’s all messed up. ...let me fix it…”

There’s hesitation in Keith’s step. Consideration. But then he’s back at the bedside, the sheets pooling at Lance’s lap as he sits up on his knees.

And there’s something different about the glint in his eyes as Lance does it - as he reaches up to card his fingers through his hair and fuss over it enough to bring it back to a more suitable state.

As soon as Lance is finished, his hands retreating back into his lap, the sour ooze of embarrassment starts to seep in. But only for a second. Only for one brief moment, because then Keith is reaching out too. And he’s smoothing the hair from Lance’s forehead away. And he’s...he’s pressing his lips to his skin so gently that it has Lance’s heart fluttering in his chest.

And then he turns, face hidden and path clear to the window and he doesn’t stop moving until he’s all the way through, his lower half hidden, and Lance can’t help but speak up again because, “Keith?”

Again.

One more time.

One more time their gaze meets. And Lance… “...be careful.”

Keith blinks, slowly letting the words sink in.

And then he’s grinning, softly but with that spark that fills Lance’s chest with that buzz that only he can.

And then he’s gone.


	2. Jealous Lance At A Fancy Charity Event!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for samuraikogane on tumblr!
> 
> "Are you jealous?"

They’ve been here for a few hours now - this charity event thing to save the pandas or whatever the heck. Lance is still a little hazy on the details. All he knows is he looks slick as hell in this black suit/black tie getup - as if the three or four ladies flocking to him throughout the evening weren’t enough of a clue.

Yep, it’s all going pretty well until it happens. The _Thing._ Lance knows to call it that because as soon as starts - as soon as the guy with dark hair and a confident step uses said confident step to step up to _Keith..._ well, let’s just say the evening turns sour in the most uncomfortable way possible.

It has this thick glob of something settling in Lance’s stomach. Has his hackles raise. Has his fingers itch for... _something_ as it all unfolds right in front of him.

Keith (bless his weird little heart) is oblivious as fuck for both way too long and still somehow not long enough, missing half a dozen passes and attempted innuendos that come out confident but fall flat once they reach their destination. At first, apparently stuck with a front row seat to The Thing, Lance feels kinda bad for this guy. But then Keith starts getting with it. Starts picking up on it. And Lance wants to shake him by the shoulders because _yes, this guy’s been flirting with you for an hour now you fucking idiot._

But he doesn’t - shake him, that is. Lance leaves it alone. And tries to ignore the itch under his collar. And takes a drink from the champagne flute growing warm in his hand.

He doesn’t even like champagne.

He doesn’t even like _Keith -_ god, why is this bugging him so much?

Maybe it’s because he can’t seem to find any faults with this guy - the one currently laughing at whatever Keith just said when Lance is ready to bet his life on the fact that it wasn’t even funny. He doesn’t know for sure because he wasn’t listening. Because he can’t anymore, honestly. Because every little thing that gets said back and forth between these two worms its way inside Lance’s chest and starts eating away at it.

Fuck this guy. He’s not even handsome.

...okay, maybe he _is_ pretty handsome. He’s definitely taller than Lance. And it’s hard to tell but he’s probably buffer than Lance under that suit. And...yeah okay, his voice is pretty deep and swoon-worthy compared to the utter shrillness Lance’s can climb to when he really gets riled up.

Lance takes another sip of champagne, grimacing slightly but only because there’s this shy little smile quirking at the corner of Keith’s mouth as the guy leans in to speak closer to his ear.

Pff.

Pfftttt.

Lance can make Keith smile for real. Like a _real_ smile. None of this dainty giggly shit.

Puh-lease--

“Lance?”

He freezes, brows lifted a little at the sudden attention on him. “Huh?” Oh shit, was his face doing something? Did he say something out loud?

Keith regards him with a little frown of confusion but pushes forward regardless. “We’re getting another,” he repeats himself, much kinder than he would if it were just the two of them (probably thanks to the presence of his admirer.) “You want one?”

One. One? Lance starts slamming some mental emergency buttons in his brain. See, this is what he gets when he doesn’t pay attention. “Uh...” Hm...

 _“Do_ recall that you wouldn’t shut up about the open bar on the way here,” Keith reminds him, an eyebrow lifting. And ah - there - another drink.

No no no, another flute of _champagne._ “I’m good,” he finally answers, swirling what’s left in his own glass and narrowly avoiding the utter humiliation of having some of it crest the rim and splash onto the front of his suit. Jesus Christ...

Keith watches it all happen, gaze scrutinizing in a way that would be interesting if it weren’t for the fact that it’s because Lance is once again being an idiot. But it only lasts so long, because then he’s shrugging and following his admirer to the open bar at the other end of the room.

Lance relaxes a surprising amount once they’re gone - like a really troubling amount - the tenseness in his shoulders dying down and his posture settling. God... _Why... Why_ is he so uptight about this guy giving Keith attention?

At least he can’t hear the flirting when they’ve fucked off to the bar. He doesn’t have to deal with the shy smiles. He isn’t being subjected to Keith visibly working out if a comment has heat behind it or not. (Spoiler: it does. All of them do. Every single one. He wants to smack him it’s so fucking obvious.) No, Lance is at least a little bit at peace here...in his suit...in this room full of people...by himself...

He takes another drink of his - ugh _jesus_ \- champagne. What’s his fucking problem? He should be happy Keith’s getting attention. It’s a good thing. It’s a good thing someone is appreciating that little wreck of a dude. He deserves it. Keith deserves to be chased after. He-... He uh…

Lance’s thought process slowly peters out as his eyes lock on the two of them at the bar, lounging casually but the guy a little closer than platonically necessary. And it’s not even that. That’s not even what catches Lance’s attention. It’s the fact that the guy leans over a little, finger motioning nonchalantly between Keith and Lance’s direction as his mouth moves with a question. And Keith...he listens and then glances over, his gaze locking on where Lance is watching from across the room.

And he…

Keith turns back. Shakes his head. Waves it off but doesn’t bring his attention up to notice the satisfied look dancing across the guy’s face only inches away.

Lance swallows.

Wait a second.

Wait one fucking second.

Did that guy just…

Did he just ask if Keith and Lance were together?

The heat that floods Lance’s chest at the realization is impossible to ignore. Very very full. Very very _scary._

Oh shit. He…

Lance moves forward without thinking, driven by the heat and the weird swirl of sour muck that’s still clinging onto his rib cage as he stalks his way to the bar. Keith notices far too soon and is staring at him with this _look_ and Lance’s heart catches on itself - gets all tangled up but he knows what he wants and what he wants is-

“Got a second?” Except it’s not a question. Because he hasn’t stopped moving since he started. And he’s got his hand around Keith’s forearm and he’s more or less tugging him with a slosh of champagne away from the bar and away from that perfect _guy_ and he doesn’t stop moving despite Keith’s protests until they’ve breached the door to the patio and they’re finally _out._

And they-...he can breathe. He can breathe in this air but only for a second because then Keith is wrenching his arm away, face twisted in something Lance can’t read but he knows isn’t good.

“The fuck’re you-”

“Oh my god.” It’s dawning on him - what he’s done. But there’s just enough adrenaline still pumping in his veins to scare away the embarrassment. Even if-

“The hell is the _matter_ with you?”

Lance straightens, the hand not occupied by his glass motioning accusingly outward. _“Me?_ What the hell’s the matter with _you?”_

It’s _not_ the right thing to say. Lance knows immediately because it has Keith squaring up, the light from the gathering inside silhouetting his outrage against the night. “The fuck are you-... _I’m_ not the one who just dragged someone out of a charity event like a fucking _psycho.”_

Lance bristles. Can’t get his breathing under control. And okay...yes that’s fair. That’s-...that’s a valid point. But- “That guy is totally hitting on you!”

“So?”

 _“So?”_ His heart’s tripping over itself again - “So that’s-” - can’t gain traction - “I don’t like it!”

Keith’s face screws up in utter confusion. “What? It’s not _for_ you!”

“I know!”

“So what’s your fucking problem?”

“I don’t-...” God _damn_ it - what _is_ his problem? Lance huffs. Pushes himself and downs what’s left of his champagne glass in one go. Reaches for Keith’s and receives no fight back and downs the full glass and _grimaces -_ fucking _grimaces_ because, _“Fuck,_ that shit’s so nasty…”

Keith watches it all, the anger lighting his movements mellowing out into something noticeably less. Moreso annoyed than mad. Moreso confused.

“Lance,” he huffs, only it’s much more composed now,  “What the hell is going on?”

And he looks so different for a reason Lance can’t put his finger on. It’s not the suit. Not the fact he ran a comb through his hair for once in his life. It’s-... It’s something Lance can’t figure out, but it’s _big._ And…

“That guy pisses me off.”

“Why.”

“Because.” Lance lets his gaze fall toward the ground, brows etched together. He turns to set the empty glasses onto the table behind him, but mostly so he doesn’t have to face it when he says, “Because he’s all over you.”

There’s laughter from inside. From the event they’re supposed to be at. Lance wouldn’t be surprised if it was directed at him, at this point.

Behind him, Keith’s tone has dropped considerably. “And why does him being all over me piss you off…?”

Why? Ha… Fucking why, indeed. If Lance knew the answer to that, he wouldn’t have dragged their asses out here in such a remarkably dramatic fashion. And yet here they are.

Except maybe... Maybe he does know. Maybe he’s known for a while now...

“Lance.”

“What...”

“...are you jealous?”

It has him scoffing - has him spending the effort to throw Keith a humorless chuckle over his shoulder because, “Yeah right… Like I’d ever be jealous of _you.”_

Except. “That’s not what I mean...and you know it…”

The breeze picks up off the ocean further down. Has Lance’s bangs dance across his forehead. Sweeps the laughter from inside away until it’s just the two of them with nothing to hide behind. And he’s… Lance is…

“Maybe…”

He refuses to turn. Doesn’t wanna see the look on Keith’s face when he says, “You’re jealous?”

Except fuck that because he _has_ to be dramatic so he twists with a little attitude and spits, “I said _maybe,_ okay? Fucking _maybe_ \- do you want me to say it again?”

“I want you to say _yes.”_

“Yeah? Well I don’t-” everything suddenly gets caught in Lance’s throat, blocked completely by Keith’s words as they register in his brain.

Wait… He wants Lance...to say yes? He wants him to be jealous? But...but that would mean he-

The movement behind Keith’s shoulder has Lance on a momentary pause, far too high strung to miss the very familiar face that’s making his way toward the patio door.

And fuck _that._

“What’s-”

Lance sweeps forward, both hands on Keith’s shoulders as he directs him back into the shadowed corner of the patio. Keith grunts a little as his back hits the brick behind him, but he’s otherwise on board - probably just wants to know what the fuck’s going on, but-

Lance presses in, shielding them both behind the stacked up patio chairs and just a _little_ too hyped up to appreciate the close proximity he’s set them up in.

Keith frowns, the annoyance shining forth now with a full-volume: “What’re you-“

But Lance gets a hand over his mouth just in time for the patio door to slide open, the chatter from inside pouring out into the night as the presence joins them a few feet away.

Keith’s eyes flick over to it, squinting in the dark as he must connect the dots in his head - brows furrowing just a touch when he slowly brings his eyes back up to Lance.

Only Lance isn’t looking. He misses the moment entirely, his hand over Keith’s mouth and his gaze trained to the deck so he can concentrate on knowing the guy’s position without turning to see.

He just-...he just really wants to keep Keith to himself for a second. Is that too much to ask?

Apparently not, because he can hear the deck creaking under the guy’s shoes as he makes his way back over to the door. And it’s then that Lance finally glances forward - finally connects that eye contact with Keith and whoa...whoa they’re-...they’re pretty close aren’t they…?

Keith blinks up at him, irises reflecting the lights as they drop down to Lance’s mouth, and then flit back up.

Lance swallows.

... _oh._

The patio door sliding shut next to them only registers after a few seconds have passed - drawing their little excursion to an end. And he-...he should move his hand now, shouldn’t he...

Keith’s grin is alarmingly soft when he does. It fact, it’s nowhere _near_ annoyed like Lance was expecting. And he should also back up, but it’s finally dawning on him how full his chest feels pressed up to him like this.

“That…” Keith grins, voice low, “...was a little excessive…”

The frown from being made fun of never crops up. Because Keith isn’t making fun of him. He’s _teasing_ him. And those are two very different things, he’s realizing right this second.

“Sorry…” Lance mumbles, but when he goes to take a step away, Keith’s got his fingers curled under the lapels of his suit jacket and he’s tugging-

“C’mere…”

-and the space is closed right back up again, Keith tilting his head a bit to close it further still until he’s pressing his lips to Lance’s. It’s so smooth that Lance’s brain has to backtrack - can’t even do that because whoa - whoa whoa whoa, Keith’s kissing him. He’s _kissing_ him.

Or-...or he was...but he stopped. And his forehead is pressed to Lance’s and he’s almost whispering: “...am I reading this wrong…?”

Which is-... _What?_

“Lance?”

“Mm?”

“Am I-...did I read this wrong?”

“No,” holy shit, why would he-

“Okay ‘cause…” his hum of a chuckle is heartbreakingly unsure, “...’cause you’re not kissing me back, so…”

It takes a second to click. To get with it - and holy _shit,_ Lance, get your fucking _head in the game._

Lance moves forward, slotting their lips back together perhaps a touch too heavily. He just doesn’t wanna leave room for doubt, is all. Wants to make it absolutely hands-down obvious that he wants to be kissing Keith right now. Because he does. Holy crap, does he. How can you want something so badly when you didn’t know you wanted it ten minutes before?

Keith’s hands drop from Lance’s suit jacket, instead sliding their way underneath and hanging loosely at the sides of his dress shirt. They’re warm. Not exactly steady. Have that heat in Lance’s chest starting to work its way lower.

He answers it with a breath - one he desperately needs, and apparently Keith needs just as badly, judging by the heavy exchange as they return to resting their foreheads together comfortably.

Lance lets his eyes close. His brain is lifted off the lack of oxygen - has him swallowing thickly as he murmurs, “...I think I like you…”

It’s met with a laugh - a high one - a very very _amused_ one as Keith lets his head fall back to rest on the brick behind him, smile entertained. “You ‘ _think’…”_

That one’s making fun. That one’s definitely not a tease. But Lance is a little too preoccupied with a couple of things right now to care. Like the fact that shit, he _does_ like Keith. And the fact that he’s right here in front of him, head tipped back and skin pretty and tempting in the moonlight and Lance wants to-

“Hhh…” Keith’s breath hitches at the lips pressing hungrily to the side of his neck, clearly surprised by the move but not exactly complaining. “Jesus, Lance…”

“I like you.”

A laugh, “Yeah, I think that’s-”

“I think I wanna sleep with you.”

He can feel the words get caught in Keith’s throat. Can feel the bob of Keith’s adams apple as he swallows. His answer takes a long time, and when it does finally tumble out, it’s on the end of another heavy swallow. “...you ‘think’?”

Lance draws his mouth up to the edge of Keith’s jaw, then hovers closely over his lips. And he may be having a lot of epiphanies right now, but there’s one certain one that’s making itself a little harder to ignore than the others. “I do…”

He hasn’t said many right things in Keith’s eyes tonight, but this one’s definitely a homerun - passes with flying colors and is received with not only a little smirk, but also Keith’s hand wrapping around Lance’s tie and pulling him in. “Remember where you parked the car?”

Nope. “Mhm.”

And it must be enough, because Keith is pushing them forward - out from their hidden spot in the corner and around and through the patio door and suddenly everything’s very loud and they’re walking through the sea of people and damn, Lance hopes he doesn’t look as completely disheveled as he thinks he is.

Or maybe he does. Because they’re not heading straight to the exit. No, Keith’s making one very special detour, Lance in hand and trailing behind him at his mercy. And please tell him-... Oh god, they _are._ Fuck yes, they _are._

“See ya,” Keith grins, giving a short wave to The Guy from before but not stopping, making it very clear that he doesn’t have the time when he’s got Lance in tow.

And Lance, _fuck,_ he can’t help the shit-eating grin that slides its way across his face as he passes him last, giving him a little wave and a “Bye bye!” before being pulled toward the exit.

It’s victory bells he’s hearing - the look of defeat on the guy’s face he’s seeing - and it tastes so sweet that Lance is definitely gonna remember this night for the rest of his life.

“That was...excessive,” he grins, squeezing Keith’s hand.

And Keith just tosses him a look over his shoulder, doesn’t say a single thing, and just _smirks._

God _damn,_ Lance loves him.


	3. The One In The Shower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for thatoneawkwardfangirlthing and max and that one anon on tumblr
> 
> "But you keep using all the hot water."

Listen, Keith just wants to take a shower after training, alright? Is that such a fucking crime? Does this really call for Lance to be up his ass, banging on the door every ten seconds because he’s, quote “taking forever Keith oh my gooooood” unquote?

“WILL YOU SHUT UP!” he’s losing his cool now. He knows that’s hard to believe, but Keith is definitely losing his cool now. 

Especially when the bathroom door bursts open, all the steam he’s built up in the bathroom getting vacuumed out and-

“GOD Lance,  _what?”_

“I need a freakin’ shower, Keith! Whatdaya mean ‘ _what’?”_

The biggest groan in the world is working its way up from Keith’s very soul. He can feel it. It’s almost here. He’s got about three Lance-related conversation threads to go before it absolutely busts out. 

“I dunno if you’ve noticed - and I think you have since you’re now  _inside the bathroom_ \- but I’ve got the shower right now. It’s  _my_ turn. Now fuck off.”

Keith turns under the shower head to the sound of Lance sputtering out another slew of dramatics. It doesn’t even matter that he can’t see him through the frosted shower door. He can already imagine the dumb shit he’s pulling off on the other side of it.

“Keeeeeeeith!”

“Laaaaaaance.” He deadpans it.

It doesn’t land well. “You always do this!”

“No,  _Pidge_ always does this.”

“Okay well I’m the last one to shower tonight and I’m sick of being gross.”

“Aren’t you always gross?”

 _“No._ I’m the cleanest one on this team, thank you very much!”

Keith rolls his eyes, grabbing at the bar of soap waiting on the ledge for him. “Then you should be fine for ten more minutes.”

And  _wow_ is that also not the right thing to say in Lance’s eyes because: “TEN MINUTES? But you’re using all the hot water!”

Jesus fucking Christ, “Fine, then just get in here or something. I’m not leaving.”

The sputtering on the other side of the frosted glass would be funny if it wasn’t also highly annoying and ruining Keith’s personal time. 

“Are-! Are you-! What the fuck, Keith!”

“If you’re really so worried about the water then get in here before it gets cold.”

“I’m not-!” More stuttering. It’s actually moving away from annoying and straying into that funny territory now. “I’m not  _getting in there_  with you, you creeper!”

“Okay, then  _bye.”_

Keith’s bar of soap glides over his chest reliably. As it always does. Whether Lance is on the other side of the shower doors having an existential crisis or not. And all joking aside, there really  _is_ a certain level of seriousness to this whole hot water/cold water shit, so as much fun as messing with Lance is, he’s gotta get this show on the road before things head south. 

“...-diculous-...” he can hear Lance mumbling, as well as some shuffling around and something hitting the floor as he continues, “...-can’t fucking  _believe-...”_

And it’s not that Keith doesn’t think Lance has the balls to actually do it - it’s not like he doesn’t comprehend just how important Lance’s personal hygiene is to him - it’s just...he doesn’t expect the shower door to  _actually_ slide open. Or for Lance to  _actually_ step in. Or for the irritated mumbling to transfer from the other side of the glass to right behind him. 

It’s-...well, that’s  _something._

“Gimme my soap.”

Keith does as asked, handing the bottle of weird alien body wash over his shoulder to where Lance has his body turned purposefully in the other direction. Honestly, he’s just pleasantly surprised to have all the shouting out of the way. Even if Lance is now all kinds of awkward behind him in a way that Keith doesn’t really understand. 

Then again, Keith’s always been abnormally blase about nudity and all that shit. He’s just too tired to care. Like...perpetually tired. He’s a very tired boy and he couldn’t care less if someone accidentally sees his dick or not.

Lance, on the other hand.

“This is seriously so fucked...” 

Keith rolls his eyes, lathering soap suds under his arms. “It’s really not that fucked.”

“It’s  _extremely_ fucked.”

“Whatever you say.”

He bends down, hands working over his shins and then his calves. They ease over the tense muscles there, worked hard from stamina training tonight. It’s gonna be so good when he finally falls asleep.

Keith straightens, placing his soap back on the ledge and turning to rinse his back when-

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Lance is squawking. Very much facing his direction. Very much wet and soapy and naked and- “Jesus, give a little-” 

The step he takes to turn away is ill-footed from the start, his foot slipping from the excess slick of soap and when he flies backward, Keith doesn’t have much room but he gets his arms under Lance’s and it’s a smooth save - a quick rescue from certain head trauma - an accidental glance down Lance’s front from over his shoulder and-

Lance tugs away, hands bracing himself on either side of the shower wall and-

...Keith hesitates... 

...debates pressing the matter given how high strung Lance already is but...

“Lance...” he can feel the twitch at the corner of his mouth, because: “...are you hard?”

The reaction is as priceless as he was hoping, Lance’s back to him but the expression on his face most likely as fiery as his tone. “NO! NO WAY!”

“You sure?”

“YES I’m sure! What do you think this is, some kind of porno?”

Keith can’t help the grin now. He knows that makes him a dick, but he’s spent enough time in this god forsaken castle with Lance to take pleasure in watching him act like an actual human being every once in a while.

But he does turn back to the shower head, running his hands through his hair to make sure all the soap is out. “It’s fine Lance, just take care of it.”

“Take-...” and suddenly it’s like he’s back on the other side of the glass again. “Take care of it?!”

“Yes?”

“I’m not jerking off in front of you!”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s fucking  _weird!”_

Keith shrugs even though he knows Lance can’t see it. Not his problem. “Whatever.”

He’s almost done anyway. Just a little more rinsing and he should be out in a few whether Lance is popping a hard on behind him or not. 

“And anyway,” speak of the devil, “...wouldn’t that freak you out?”

Freak him out? Keith lets his eyes open. “No?”

“Seriously?”

“Why should it?”

“Because it’s-...you’re-...” 

Keith waits a second. And then a second more. Nothing? “I’m not hearing an answer.”

“Yeah well...” the water is starting to lose its heat. “I shouldn’t have to give you a reason. You should be freaking out that your teammate wants to jerk off behind you.”

“’Wants to’?”

“What?”

“You said ‘wants to’.”

“N-... I definitely said ‘if your teammate wanted to’. If.”

He didn't.

Keith lets his eyes close again, letting the water run over his neck before it starts to ice over. “You’re really making a big deal outta this, aren’t you.”

He can imagine Lance’s clenched fists. His dramatic pose. “It  _is_ a big deal.”

“It’s not.”

“It totally is! You’re the weirdo who has no sense of self preserva-”

“God,” it’s when Keith snaps - when he rolls his eyes one final time and then turns and gets Lance crowded up nice and tight against the shower wall. It’s answered with a little squawk of surprise as he reaches down, hand fumbling for a second before wrapping around Lance’s dick and giving it a good tug.   _“Now_ will you shut up?”

Lance’s eyes squeeze shut but his mouth drops open, hands flying out to land on Keith’s slick chest, only to slide up to his shoulders as he breathes out, “Wh-...what’re you doing...”

Keith resists the urge to be a complete asshole. Only half an asshole. “It’s called a handjob.”

Lance’s brows furrow from it, frown apparent, “I know what a handjob is, you dick. I mean why’re you- _ahh...”_

It’s a good sign. Still: “You want me to stop?”

“I-... I didn’t say that...”

The fingernails at his shoulders dig into his skin - breath close to his ear starting to hitch. Keith takes one brief moment to trace back to the turning point in this whole shower scenario, surprised but not unpleasantly when he realizes it’s only been a matter of minutes since Lance had slipped. And, “Yeah,” he almost chuckles, sarcasm dripping, “you’re not hard at all Lance.”

“Shut up,” he bites, but like the water falling down Keith’s back, it’s losing more and more heat with every second. 

Keith has to admit it’s kind of entertaining. He’s certainly not going to use this as blackmail or anything. That’s just not the kind of guy he is. But  _he’ll_ know. And  _Lance_ will know. And that’s all it’ll take to turn the tables the next time they have a particularly pointed-

“Fuck-” the sudden gasp for air in front of him has Keith caught off guard, the telltale signs coming  _far_ sooner than both of them probably expect but - “Shit-...shit, I-I’m-”

Lance tenses hard enough for Keith to drop off his speed, more surprised than anything as the spurts of come miss him by just an inch and are washed down the drain with the rest of the water.

And Keith... 

He stares down at his hand. And then up at Lance. Or more specifically, where Lance’s eyes are squeezed shut, the blush on his cheeks most likely for a whole different reason now as he says it, “Shut up,” chants it, “Shut up, shut up, shut up...”

And Keith certainly isn’t one to comment on the quickness of someone blowing their load, even if it would be fun as hell to tease the shit out of Lance about this. 

So he just shakes his head. Runs his hand under the now lukewarm spray. Can’t fight down the grin tugging at his mouth as he clears his throat and says, as calmly as possible, “Shower’s all yours.”

And Lance just lets out the longest breath Keith’s ever heard in his life, his back still pressed to the wall as he nods sarcastically, eyes still closed. 

“Thanks, Keith.”


	4. Lance Helping Shy Inexperienced College Keith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:  
> keep your voice down, as a prompt, eats my whole ass,,, idek what would happen if u wrote something for it i’m die mayb
> 
> some tags you might want to know about before reading:  
> -there’s a 5 year age-gap between them  
> -keith is shy af and lance is a sly motherfucker  
> -***keith is technically cheating with lance so if that’s not your cup of tea you’ve been warned and i appreciate you not bringing up how you dont like it if you're commenting thank you!

Lance has never been good when it comes to temptation.

He’ll have that next drink when he probably shouldn’t. And that hat is expensive for no reason, but he’s gonna buy it. And his little sister’s boyfriend? The one who moves around like he’s trying not to take up too much space, but still finds time to stare at Lance when he thinks he’s not looking? Yeah. Lance wants that. Wants him. Wants to take that shy little boy and work him over until he’s putty in his hands.

And yes - ‘oh Lance he’s your sister’s boyfriend!’ ‘how could you!’ ‘he’s still in college’ ‘don’t you have any shame?’ blah blah blah blah _blah. Yes._ He _knows._ But this boy is adorable as hell and so profoundly unsure of himself and Lance wants that dick in his ass so bad that he’s not really listening to reason anymore. Not when his cheeks flush pink when Lance lingers a little too closely in the kitchen when everyone else has gone to sleep. Not when he’s seen the way he looks at him poolside, Lance stretched out on his back for him so he doesn’t have to work very hard to take a peek.

As Lance said, he’s not listening to reason anymore. And the universe must want it just as badly, because it sets them up for it tonight like magic.

Everyone else has gone to a movie that neither of them wanted to see, the house is empty - quiet - and Lance is sliding his vibrator up his ass with a little hiss and then setting his plan into motion.

He’s gonna catch this boy tonight and make him his.

Lance hits the lowest setting on his vibe remote and tosses it to the side, his legs stretching out and bent at just the right angle that anyone passing by his _very intentionally_ open door would have an uninhibited view. _Will_ have an uninhibited view. It’s going to happen, Lance just has to set the bait and be patient.

It goes down sooner than he expected it to, his pulse skyrocketing with excitement as he hears the door down the hallway open and the footsteps start to creak toward the stairs. After that it’s an inevitability, Lance stretching and counting it down and -

It happens quickly but just as Lance expects - his target passing by the open door and giving a calm little glance in and then continuing on his way until there’s a very obvious creek in the floorboards - a halt in his step - an immediate stop just beyond the doorway.

He’s realizing what he just saw. It’s registering in his head. He’s frozen in his place and-...

Lance smirks. Time to reel him in. “Keith...”

A good few seconds pass, dead silent except for the hum of the vibration, and Lance can just imagine the thought process tearing that kid apart in the hallway right now.

“...Keith...” he softens his smile, tries again. “C’mere...”

Another handful of seconds. Ticking by silently. And then, very very slowly...

Keith backtracks with careful steps, eyes considerably wider but very purposefully trained at the floor as he reappears in the doorway, his body still half-turned toward the stairs.

And wow... God, he looks even cuter than Lance imagined he would. So out of place. So in his head. And why wouldn’t he be - caught in the crosshairs of his girlfriend’s older brother, naked and stretched out and calling to him so easily.

Lance wants to throw caution to the wind but he knows he needs to play this the right way - knows he’s gotta work this in just a manner that won’t spook him and ruin his chances. Luckily, he’s got some firepower to back him up.

“It’s okay Keith, you can look,” he hums, trailing fingers over his chest in preparation. “I know you like to watch me...”

That hits something in the boy at his door, his eyes trailing in thought over the floorboards for a good long while.

...and then the carpet in Lance’s room

...and then the end of Lance’s bed.

...and...

Lance chuckles, “It’s okay,” and then those eyes fall on him, and they’re stuck there, and Lance can feel the warmth flooding his entire body as Keith’s lips part wordlessly, body slumping backwards and his back coming to prop against the door frame.

Lance’s vibrator is at too low a setting to really do anything, but with how cute this boy looks staring at him - so nervous, definitely torn - he’s pretty sure he could get off with one or two clicks higher.

But that’s not what he wants. And it’s probably not what Keith wants, judging by the blush starting to dust high in his cheeks. Which means Lance needs to keep working.

“Mm...Nadia tells me you haven’t fucked her yet...” He murmurs it nonchalantly, gaze flicking down to where he runs his hands down his thighs from the tops of his knees. “That true...?”

He doesn’t have to be watching to hear the heavy swallow from the doorway. But he does glance back up to see the little shake of Keith’s head, his eyes never leaving him.

It has Lance preening in the best way. Inspires him to feign the surprise he definitely doesn’t feel, “No? Not even once? Man, you’re really holding off, aren’t you...” and then he lets a grin quirk the corner of his mouth as his tone drops off into a knowing one. “Unless, of course...there’s another reason...”

It sticks. Sinks. Has Keith’s attention falling for the briefest of moments, but then picking right back up again when Lance says it.

“C’mere...”

He’s ready for it to not land well. He’s ready for it to either take a few times or scare him off entirely. So he’s not surprised when Keith stutters out, his voice cropping up for the first time tonight, “Shouldn’t-... Uh...” He’s tense. Understandably. Endearingly. “I shouldn’t-... Nadia’s-...”

Lance waits patiently, running a hand down his stomach to brush his knuckles over how hard his dick is and grinning when every single one of Keith’s sentences fall flat. It’s almost too much too bear. “Oh my _god,_ you’re so cute.”

Keith’s blush is getting deeper by the minute. Wonder how far it reaches under that t-shirt...

However: “Go if you want. I’m not gonna stop you.” Lance insists it, just to keep things light for a moment. Like a _quick_ moment. Because then he’s right back to business. _“Or..._ you can stay... No one has to know.”

Keith’s frown is immediate. “She-”

“Sweetie,” Lance sits up for this one, making a point but back arched purposefully as he repeats himself, heavier this time. _“No one has to know...”_

It’s got this obvious way of getting into Keith’s head - Lance can see it as it works in and out and leaves him helpless at the door. And Lance just wants to help him. Just wants to take him by the hand and pull him gently into bed and reassure him that it’s okay as he lays him down and bounces on his cock a little.

But this isn’t one of his many fantasies. This is real life. This is real-life-Keith - sweet and tentative and standing just a few feet away...then glancing back down the hallway...and then slowly pulling himself from where he’s slumped against the frame.

Lance grins.

Hook, line, and sinker.

“Close the door, sweetheart.”

He pulls his pillows further down the bed as his request is answered, getting himself comfortable and toes nearly at the edge of the mattress, but still sitting up enough to see how Keith seems to hover over at the door now that his task is done. Ugh...so cute…

“So…” Lance reaches down to calmly press his vibrator deeper inside himself, amused by the eyes on him as he does so, “Does she know you like boys?”

Keith’s brows etch together, not _mad_ but definitely- “I don’t-”

 _“Ugh,_ holy shit you adorable little idiot, yes you do.” It takes every fiber of Lance’s being not to outright laugh in his face. Because he saw this coming a mile away and wow, “Holy shit, do you like boys…”

Keith huffs. It’s probably supposed to be aggressive, but he just ends up looking even more endearing in his shame.

And man...has Lance been there. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Keith. It’s totally fine to like dick.” He reaches a hand out, the other resting on his ankle. “You like dick, don’t you?”

The offer is looked over carefully - weighed over - pondered over - and it’s another hook, line, and sinker when he lets Lance pull him in by the wrist with a quick stumble and quiet little, “...I think so…”

Lance grins, toes curling in anticipation as he draws Keith’s hand closer. “You _think_ you like dick?” A nod. Oh boy, this is too easy. “Do you like _my_ dick?”

Keith’s hand is shaking in his hold - trembling a touch as his eyes glaze over and his lips part again, “I-... ...uh…”

And he’s standing close now, his thighs pressed against the foot of the bed. So close to Lance and the hum of his vibrator and it doesn’t take much more work before Lance is leading him down to his cock, wrapping Keith’s warm hand around it and guiding him with a couple easy strokes that send happy little shivers up his spine.

Keith’s inhale trembles in front of him, his attention unbreakable as he watches it all happen with a breathy, “...oh my god…”

He’s in awe.

Still shaking.

Lance wants to take pictures of his cute fucking face and frame them all around his room because, “God, you’re precious…”

It’s a compliment. He hopes it comes out as one. Hopes to remember the little furrow of Keith’s eyebrows that just _screams_ he doesn’t know how he got here - doesn’t know what he’s doing - knows he’s not being the most faithful boyfriend in the world but he’s got a dick in his hand and he’s not exactly sure how he got to be this lucky.

Which, speaking of.

“So what _have_ you done with my sister?”

Keith’s trance takes a back seat for that one, his gaze flicking back up to Lance’s chest, and then all the way up to where he’s looking at him with a tiny little, “Huh?”

Lance drops his hand away, mentally notes how Keith’s stalls without direction, and then goes back to guiding the nice, long strokes. “You haven’t slept together,” he rationalizes, hips working just a little at a well angled one, “Have you done _anything?”_

Keith swallows, clearly able to climb a few tiers higher on the embarrassment scale. “I don’t-...see how that’s your business…”

“It’s not,” Lance admits, “Just wondering how you’re thirsty enough to always be staring at me when she’s right there.”

It’s an accurate accusation and they both know it. And damn, does it feel good to say it out loud instead of just feeding into it during the situation and then fantasizing a little afterward.

“You eat her out yet?” A bold question. Keith doesn’t say anything. “No?” Lance wasn’t really expecting him to. “Maybe it’s not your thing...” He reaches out for Keith’s other hand, their fingers spreading as he guides it down his inner thigh. “Lemme ask you this, then. You ever give head before?”

That one has Keith clearing his throat, swallow thick and bobbing his adam’s apple in a way that makes Lance want to sink his teeth into it.

No answer. “That means ‘no’...”

Keith blinks, heavy lids, “I’ve uh-...” closes his eyes for a second and then lets them open back up again, “I’ve watched...uh…”

“Porn?” It’s not a hard word. Not for Lance at least. But damn him if the shyness doesn’t get to him in the best way. “Well...that’s not gonna teach you everything,” he says, then uses his hold to sit forward and ease Keith down onto his knees by the shoulders, “...but it’s a good place to start…”

Keith’s eyes have gone wide, level with Lance’s cock and the vibrator still going to town a little underneath. He’s weary. Torn again. Panicking?

“I-I’ve never-”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“I don’t-”

“Just do it how you want Nadia to do it.”

It almost seems like a suggestion that works against him, Keith gone completely still, but then, “...should I just-...”

Lance helps him with a nod and then he’s leaning forward, mouth opening and hesitant but ready and- “Wet your lips.” Keith freezes, licking just a little and it’s sweet and all but - “More, honey.”

And it’s very obvious how self conscious he feels, but then his tongue darts out, sliding along his top lip and then pulling in his bottom to get them wet and that alone is almost enough for Lance to want to pull him forward. But he remains patient. And he remains kind. And as Keith leans forward, that tongue gives a little lick at the head of Lance’s cock, and then a bigger one, and at Lance’s approval - “Keep going…” - he slurps the tip into his mouth and then pops off like he’s eating a popsicle.

And Lance is ready to die.

“That’s good…” he encourages, fighting the urge to crank his vibrator up. Especially when the boy between his legs does it again, popping off with a hot breath and waiting for another word of encouragement and, “Good Keith, keep going…”

Getting more of Lance’s dick in his mouth is a little bit of a feat, Keith’s head angled too far forward for it to slide in comfortably. But instead of making him move, Lance scoots back on the bed a little - opens up the space and opens up Keith’s throat and after _that…_

“Ooh…” Lance lets his eyes fall shut for a moment to savor it, but then he’s back. He reaches forward to card his fingers through that dark hair - softer than he thought - _longer_ than he thought - uses it to help set a healthy rhythm for Keith to bob his head to. And Keith’s face is getting red between his legs. “Breathe, baby... Breathe through your nose...”

Whoops. Lance honestly forgot about how that’s not exactly obvious to everyone the first time.

The first time.

This is Keith’s first time giving head.

Jesus, why is that so hot?

Lance lets a soft little coo of a moan fall from his lips. “Good job…” He _could_ technically be sucking a little more, but Lance doesn’t know if his self control will be able to fight through that so, “You’re doin’ great…”

And speaking of that self control:

Keith pulls off with a heavy pant, eyes clouded over and far too much spit being wiped away from his mouth. But honestly that’s a good problem to have. Too much spit is always better than not enough spit.

And maybe this has loosened him up enough for a little more dirty talk.

“See?” Lance grins as Keith sits back on his heels, “You’re great at sucking dick.”

How heavily his chest is rising and falling is almost as entertaining as the subtle little palming at his lap. “I did good?”

Lance could help him with that. “Mhm. I’m sure you’re great at eating pussy too.”

Keith wipes his mouth again - shutters at either the attention or Lance’s assumption or the way he has to readjust his jeans over his crotch.

He’s hard and he’s hiding it but it’s nothing but a green light in Lance’s brain.

Time for one last hook.

“Okay Keith…” he sighs, smile gone dreamlike as he lays back again, “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret…” It’s the same time that he reaches for the remote to his vibrator, using his thumb to click it up a couple settings. It’s not enough to go crazy, but enough to have his toes curling as he circles his middle finger around the end of the toy and then grabs it, starting up a slow pulse in and out. “You wanna know what it is…?”

It’s got Keith’s attention held almost amusingly well, that poor boy - his lips parted as he can’t help but watch Lance pump the vibrator inside himself.

Lance has him right where he wants him.

There’s no better time to say it.

“I think you’re outrageously cute… And I want you to fuck me tonight…”

If it’s possible for Keith’s eyes to both haze over and widen at the same time, Lance knows about it. Because he’s got a front row seat to it. And he’s seeing the endearing little look of shock work over him when he says it, like he can’t believe he’s hearing right, breathy as can be, “...really?”

Lance wants to scoop him up and eat him whole and _fuck_ it’s not fair for one boy to be so adorable. “Mhm.”

“...but I’m-”

“Dating my sister.”

“A-and you’re-”

“Your girlfriend’s brother. I know, honey. I’ve done the math.”

Keith’s tearing himself apart at the foot of Lance’s bed. He can almost hear the back and forth wracking his brain. And, “I-...that’d be-”

“You don’t have to, but I’ve wanted you for a long time.” Lance hasn’t stopped fucking himself with the vibrator in front of him. “And let’s be honest, Keith. You had my cock in your mouth a couple minutes ago, so if you’re still aiming for that spotless cheating record, that’s already off the table.”

As soon as it comes out of his mouth he knows he shouldn’t have said it. It’s got Keith’s gaze tearing away, eyes darting like too much is dawning on him, and he _really_ shouldn’t have said that.

“Keith-”

“I’ve uh... I’ve never...actually…”

And now is not the time. Now is not the time, now is not the time, but Lance kinda had his suspicions and to hear it be true would just be- “You’ve never done it with _anyone?”_ It’s obvious. Of course he hasn’t. That’s already been made clear but- “You’re a virgin?”

Keith stands, eyes everywhere but on Lance and _shit,_ he’s really done it now.

“C’mere, it’s okay,” he insists - can’t help the sheepish smile - gathers to his knees and gets both of Keith’s hands and brings him calmly back to the edge of the bed. “It’s not bad - I’m not making fun of you.”

Keith arrives with a near pout and a deep, deep blush, eyes still elsewhere because he’s most likely not convinced.

That, and: “...she doesn’t know…”

Lance blinks.

‘She’… Nadia? Ahh, isn’t that interesting…

“She doesn’t need to.” He’s brought Keith’s hands onto him, slid one behind his neck and the other over his bare hip. “I won’t tell anyone,” he promises, “It can be our secret.”

And those hands are still shaking, but…on the end of a breath, “Or…”

“Or?”

Hesitation. A heavy pause. Clear, clear evidence that there’s a lot banking on what he says next. Then… “Or you could...help me…?”

He says it so cryptically that Lance almost has to take a second to piece it together. Almost. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s been waiting for this cutie to work up the courage to ask him to fuck for months now. And the fact that Lance literally just told him he wants his dick in him not thirty seconds ago, and yet Keith’s embarrassed enough that it sounds like _he’s_ the one asking.

The smile that creeps across Lance’s face is as delighted as it is dirty. “Oh...I can _definitely_ help you - don’t you worry.”

Keith doesn’t get much chance to fumble through a response because Lance doesn’t allow it. No, he’s much more interested in switching up his hands from guiding Keith’s to letting his fingers trail down Keith’s tense stomach over his t-shirt.

“Let’s see what we’re working with, shall we?” he hums, tapping the buckle of his belt and then beginning to work it open.

He’s gotta do it fast. He can already invision Keith getting twenty times shier and forty times redder from having his dick out. And they’ve come way too far for him to get cold feet now.

So Lance stays on task - unbuttons, and unzips, and eases Keith’s jeans and boxers down over his hips until he’s popping out and-...

Whoa.

…

... _whoa._

“Oh wow…”

Keith frowns, hands lifting off Lance and brows furrowing like he’s done something wrong. “Is… Is that bad…?”

And Lance...holy shit. “Oh no. _Nooo_ no.” Because, “You-...” a chuckle of disbelief, “...you realize you’re hung, right?”

Keith swallows. “I am?” It’s clear he’s having trouble.

And Lance wants to both kiss his oblivious little face and fuck him until there’s no room left for doubt.

The second one. The second one sounds good.

“Stay here,” he orders, sliding back on the bed to reach into his drawer and pull out what they need. Let it be known that Lance is a kind and caring teacher. And the first rule about fucking a new partner? “Here,” he tosses the silver packet down toward the end of the bed. “You know how to put a condom on, right?”

Keith catches it with both hands, not exactly smooth but with time to throw his own look of displeasure back at him. “Yes.” He’s insulted. Just a little.

Luckily, it’s gone within the time it takes Lance to return with everything else. “Okay, okay. Just making sure,” he insists, voice raised an octave higher as he watches Keith tear the wrapper down the side. “You’re a big boy - I’m sure you’re well educated for-” a pause, “-remind me how old you are again?”

Keith’s concentrating on shakily unrolling the condom over the head of his dick - realizing that he’s got it backwards and flipping it over and trying again. “Nineteen…”

Lance’s smile freezes momentarily, his blink a little erratic.

Jesus christ, that’s right. Okay, that’s only what...five years younger than Lance? Yeah, only five years.

Whatever - he’s cute, he’s got a big dick - it’s time, let’s do this.

Lance returns to his spot at the foot of the bed, pulse picking up in anticipation at the sight of Keith not knowing what to do with his hands now that he’s done. But again, Lance can help him with that.

“Alright honey,” he murmurs, leaning forward and popping his ass out for him as he collects enough spit to cover the head of the condom, then uses his hand to spread it down the shaft with a glance up, “Lets get you nice and wet.”

Keith’s hips buck forward into it endearingly soon - eyes track - clearly torn between closing from the sensation or watching Lance’s hand or admiring his ass.

Lance is giving him too many options, and as fun as it is to see him struggle, he’d rather watch him struggle with something a little more enticing.

Even as Keith says, “I like when you call me that,” as Lance lays back into position, eyes now taking in his front.

It’s off the cuff but Lance’s grin is pulling. “What…‘honey’?” Because holy crap.

Keith nods, gaze lowered.

Holy _crap_ what a cutie. Of course he does. Of course he likes being called honey. God, can this kid get any more adorable?

“Nadia doesn’t call you that?”

“Mm-mm…”

“Have you asked her to?”

“...no…?”

The slick drag of the vibrator as he pulls it out has Lance humming a little - has him missing the near satisfaction. _Near._ Because there’s only one thing that’s going to completely satisfy him at this point. And it’s already so temptingly close. “Well then _honey,_ why don’t you come here and use that big dick of yours?”

It leaves his lips and immediately rivals a cheesy porn line but lord almighty, Keith is eating it up just a breath away, gaze gone dark and words sticking.

“...god…” He’s breathy. Nervous. “...are you sure…?”

Stalling.

And the anticipation is going to eat Lance alive. “It’s okay - don’t be nervous...” He leans forward a bit. Pulls Keith in. Gets him close but doesn’t do it for him because, “You can do it... You can fuck me…”

The tip of Keith’s cock is already pressing against him, just a touch too low. All it takes is for one of those trembling hands to reach down and move himself up a little and then…

Then…

Keith’s eyelids flutter shut as he _finally_ eases in...mouth dropping wider with every inch of him that slides into Lance. It’s impossibly innocent and obscenely blatant and it’s the hottest thing Lance has ever seen. Made impossibly hotter by the ache of being filled just right.

Fuck, this was such a good idea.

“Holy shit…” Keith damn near whispers, eyes fluttering back open and focusing down on where he’s slowly starting to pull out of Lance for the next one.

It’s gotta be an amazing sight. Especially for his first time. Might be _too_ much of a sight.

“Fuck me nice and slow, okay sweetie? ...Keith?”

He gets a nod in response for the second one, Lance’s request finally taking root in his brain. And as much as Lance would like to go all out, he knows what first times are like. And he knows how... _short_ they can be, let’s just say. And let’s also just say that he wants to ride this out for as long as possible before he gets to see the no doubt darling look on Keith’s face when he comes inside him.

So nice and slow it is.

Keith’s already proven that he’s good at following directions.

“There you go…” he’s easing in and out...hips working and breath catching each time...and he’s still watching, almost in disbelief - like he can’t wrap his mind around the fact that he’s actually here in Lance’s room fucking him right this second.

“I’ve thought about this…” he gets out, voice deep like a dream, “...with you… ...a _lot…”_

Lance doesn’t need the validation, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love to hear the obvious. “Oh yeah…?”

“Yeah…”

“How much?”

He’s starting to step up his pace, hips moving quicker. “...ughhh… _...so_ much…” He lets Lance guide his hands forward to hold under his bent knees - lets them be occupied. “...all the fucking time…”

It’s a nice angle and has some heat making waves in Lance’s stomach and it’s _interesting._ He finds it so very _interesting_ how talkative this boy is getting now that things have gotten underway. “Mm...tell me more, sweetheart…”

Could it be he just needs his dick in someone to open up?

Keith’s answer comes as blunt nails subconsciously raking over Lance’s knees. A heavy, trembling breath. His bottom lip sucked between his teeth as he bites off a noise that Lance would very much like to hear.

“When you’re thinking about it...about us fucking...” Lance rolls his hips down to start meeting those quickening thrusts, “...what do we look like?”

It’s met with _great_ approval. Almost so much approval that it scatters Keith’s ability to voice his thoughts. But something like that…it’s gotta be ingrained pretty heavily in his mind, right? Maybe even heavier than how Lance’s are?

“I’m-...” it’s definitely a struggle, Keith’s gaze started to drop dangerously heavy, “I’m on...my back… ...and you’re-...” Deep breath. Shaky.

Lance eases up, the smile already curling. “I’m riding you...?”

Keith nods. And he’s growing faster. And he’s gonna get ahead of himself here soon - gonna chase after it too quickly - so Lance frames Keith’s waist and brings him to a gentle stop and says something he knows he’s gonna like.

“Lie down for me.”

And oh...like it, he does. “...are you _serious…?”_ Absolutely precious.

“Of course. Come lie down for me, okay?”

The hesitation is only there because everything’s taking so fucking long for Keith to process, his brain muddled with the haze Lance is very familiar with, only blown up ten times by raging hormones and the excitement of this being the first.

But he does as he’s asked - has every time - and he lets Lance tug his pants a little further down his thighs before straddling over him, making sure to arch his back in a way that he’s knows is pretty to look at before locking eyes with the boy under him and slowly settling himself onto his cock.

It stretches so well. Stretches so full. Has Keith’s eyes widening a little and then slamming shut, the back of his head pressing hard against the pillow as Lance bottoms him out with a little roll of his hips.

“Feel good?”

Keith’s response is more of a noise than an actual formed word.

Lance smiles. He couldn’t say it better himself. “Ready for more?”

“...hnn… ...yes please…”

Well, if he’s gonna be so polite about it.

Lance rolls his hips again, swaying on Keith’s cock and then putting more weight on his thighs to start up an easy bounce that’s got that heat swirling again.

And Keith… Oh boy… Now that he’s got his eyes open to watch...

“Holy shit…”

“Talk to me honey.”

He’s shaking his head but it looks difficult with how he’s also trying to crane his neck up a little to get a better look, lips parted and glistening as he says it. “I… I can’t believe this is real…”

Lance hums a chuckle, admiring how the blush of Keith’s cheeks is starting to creep down his neck. Adorable. “Oh...it’s real.” Is it ever. Even if Lance is going easy on him at first. But Keith should really be enjoying it to the fullest, shouldn’t he?

It’s too easy to pull his hands from where he’s gripping into the bed sheets at their sides to help guide them back onto him. He starts at his stomach. Watches Keith watch. Watches him take in the feeling of Lance’s muscles tensing under his palms as he grinds down with a purposely fluid twist. Watches him realize he’s got full reign when Lance releases him and those hands start to work their way up to his chest on their own.

It _is_ a little bit of a mindfuck, if Lance is gonna be honest. Actually _doing_ this. Keith’s not alone in that aspect. It’s just-

“You’re so hot...”

It’s a whine.

A _whine,_ Keith’s brows furrowing like he’s upset about it.

And _that,_ Lance wouldn’t mind hearing a little more of. “Oh yeah?”

“S-... _so_ hot…”

“Thank you, sweetie.” Lance clasps his hands on his thighs, picking up his bounce just the slightest bit and reveling in the heat it spreads. God, he should’ve known Keith had a big dick. Isn’t it always the ones who don’t know it who-

“I don’t wanna have sex with her...” Keith’s rambling now - overheated and running at the mouth - doesn’t seem too concerned with the secrets he’s letting spill out as he runs a bold thumb over one of Lance’s nipples. “I don’t - I-... I wanna have sex with _you…”_

It lights this spark of a fire in Lance’s chest - something cocky and proud but also weirdly territorial. Confusingly selfish. ...oddly...protective?

He takes Keith’s hand before he knows what he’s doing, bringing his palm to his mouth and pressing a kiss there and, “Keith, you-”

The sound of the garage door opening one floor under them is the last thing he expects and the last thing he’s listening for and shit - he’s dragged this out too long being dramatic.  It’s got his pulse tripping up a bit a too.

But fuck, not _nearly_ as bad as Keith.

His top half lurches forward, wide eyes coming face to face with Lance and-

“Sh sh sh sh,” Lance has got his hands on him. Hasn’t stopping rocking himself on his dick. Presses him back down despite the hesitant struggle because he’s got a plan. “It’s okay, just lie back.”

“She’s gonna-”

“Keith,” Lance is smiling now, “baby,” gearing up and leaning down to murmur it in his ear. “Just keep your voice down.”

Keith doesn’t get the chance to protest before Lance is finally sliding into full speed, throwing caution to the wind and fucking finally finally _finally_ letting his thighs do the work as he starts to bounce on that cock like he’s been waiting for.

And shit, is it good.

Keith must think so too because his mouth drops open once again, but this time there’s no sound - can’t be any sound - probably is too surprised to make any sound in the first place but-

The garage door’s closing under them. The house door opening.

Lance is starting to sweat it a little bit but if he’s reading the way Keith’s hips are jerking under him like that he’s-

“Shi-...” It’s a gasp and a split second warning and Keith’s face - Keith’s _cute fucking face as he comes,_ eyes squeezed tight and brows furrowed like crazy and both hands flying up to slap over his own mouth but it only muffles it - doesn’t deaden it - and even strangled like that it’s high-pitched and full-hearted and the most adorable shit Lance has ever heard in his _life,_ what the _fuck._

A cupboard slams downstairs but Lance has the feeling he’s the only one hearing it, the boy underneath him far too lost in his own come-down as he swallows roughly, then lets his hands fall from his still open mouth, then looks down at where his dick is still buried deep in Lance’s ass.

And damn, Lance is so glad to be here for whatever sort of spiritual awakening is happening inside this kid right now.

And this? This he needs to make time for. “How’d that feel…?”

Keith’s eyes are still hazed over but in an entirely different way now. It makes it even more adorable when he answered with a breathy, “...thank you so much…”

Lance can’t help the chuckle. Did he seriously just thank him for sex? “You’re very welcome, sweetheart.” He’s just going to indulge him, grinning warmly. “My pleasure…”

It’s actually a very nice moment. Very healthy. Ruined entirely by the voice cropping up on the other side of his bedroom door.

“Hey, you got Keith in there with you?”

It’s got Keith’s eyes shooting open so wide that it’d be funny if it wasn’t clearly because he’s so scared shitless.

But Lance has got this. “We’re having some boy time, Nadia. You’re not allowed to ruin it.”

Boy time. Haha. Funny - get it? Because he’s technically got her boyfriend balls deep in his-

“Weirdo. Whatever, just don’t corrupt him.”

Corrupt him! Oh god, this shit couldn’t write itself!

“Yeah yeah - he’s in good hands.”

Keith is positively dying under him. No longer in post-orgasm state and _very_ much aware of the situation he’s in.

You could say he’s pretty...fucked-

“Weirdo…”

The footsteps creaking away from the door and down the hall toward Nadia’s room has Keith noticeably relaxing beneath him. Not _relaxed_ but less like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin.

Lance has gotta admit he’s also relieved he worked all this magic in such a tight timeframe tonight. Which, speaking of…

“I know I don’t have to say it...” but he’s going to, “Keep this little thing between us, yeah?”

Keith looks like he’s about to ask what kind of dumb motherfucker Lance takes him for when his words are snuffed out by the feeling of Lance lifting himself off and then settling next to him on the bed.

And…

“You didn’t-...uh…”

Lance glances down at himself - “Oh,” waves it off as Keith pulls the condom off and struggles but eventually ties the end. “Don’t you worry about that. I’ve got more than enough to work with until next time.”

The last part of it’s catching Keith just like he thought it would, a halt in his movements as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed but takes a second to look back at him. “...next time…?”

And Lance knows he’s said it far too much tonight, but he’s gonna say it again. This kid. He’s cute. Way too fucking cute. And of course - he gives him a little knowing eyebrow raise - has his smirk turn softer when it seems to blow Keith’s mind a little bit.

And that’s enough of that. “Okay okay,” he prods, tapping Keith’s thigh to get him moving and pull his pants up. “Get outta here before I’m tempted.”

It does a good job at stoking a fire under Keith. Gets him to buckle himself and run his hands through his hair maybe a little too much but it’s too adorable to stop so Lance just resorts to watching him fondly, falling back to lay down again as he admires the fuss and then the little glance Keith throws him over his shoulder when he gets a hand on the doorknob.

Lance grins. Waves with wiggling fingers. Is already planning for ‘next time’ as soon as Keith’s slipping through the door and closing it behind him.

Then it’s creaking floorboards.

And it’s muffled voices down the hall.

And Lance lies back, his smile ridiculous as he lets his mind run wild.

Because damn, he’d pay every cent in his bank account to hear what kind of bullshit that cutie’s fumbling his way through right now to explain what he was up to while everyone was gone.

 


	5. The Fluff In The Tent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no smut in this one folks. just some fluff and dem feels.

The planet Lance and Keith are escorting Allura on is gorgeous and lush and magnificent until the sun rotates out of view. Until everything is blanketed over with this thick sort of darkness that creeps over the ground and into the little tent-like dome set up for Lance to sleep in.

 _“’This isn’t your average everyday darkness’.”_ He’s quoting Spongebob to himself. Clutching the bedding to his chest. Trying to trick himself into laughing. _“’This is...advanced darkness.’“_

It doesn’t work. For once in his life. Rolling out Spongebob quotes at both opportune and arguably inappropriate times has always been good for at least a little smile, but now...

Something rustles the leaves just outside Lance’s tent, the suddenness of it making him draw his knees up and scramble for where his bayard lays purposely at the ready.

It’s like, the twenty second time it’s happened tonight. Not that he’s been counting. He’s just got a lot of time on his hands with the other two separated in their own tents next to his. Gosh he’d be a lot less freaked out if he could just chill with one of them.

“Okay...” Time to roll through the limited options in his head once again.

Lance crosses his legs, eyes closing. When he says ‘limited options’ he really means  _limited options._  The first and most obvious thought is to of course go bother Allura into letting him stay with her. That’s what he  _wants_ to do, at least. But he’s also very aware of the repercussions and the unrequited interest and he can just see Shiro staring down at him from above with that  _look_ \- can hear that short and pointed “Lance”. Plus the last thing he wants to do is make the princess uncomfortable.  

But on the other hand, that leaves Keith. The same Keith who just a couple of hours ago threatened to slice Lance’s hand off when it strayed a little too close to his plate.

And ugh... Does Lance really wanna camp out with  _that?_

Another rustle - this time louder and closer and  _yep - yep Lance really wants to camp out with that._

The flap of his tent billows with a woosh as Lance darts out and makes a b-line and hustles his sorry ass as quickly as possible until he’s ducking into the tent next to his with a whispered, “Woo doggy...”

It’s dark in here too, but the look of groggy confusion as Keith sits up from his own bedding and squints at him is perfectly clear. “...Lance?”

“H-hey dude-”

“The fuck’re you doing...” Only it’s not mad. It’s just tired. Maybe a little bewildered.

And huh, maybe this isn’t going to be as trying as Lance was imagining. “There’s something out there.”

“Where...”

“Out  _there._ It’s moving all the leaves around and like-...” Lance stops himself. Gets his shit together. He’s a paladin of Voltron for christ’s sake.

Keith’s interest is slowly fading. And it wasn’t all that great to start off with. “It’s fine, Lance,” he mumbles, turning back on his side and then laying back down with an additional groggy, “Go back to sleep.”

But ugh, that’s the problem. That’s the whole point. “I can’t.” He should really lower his voice a little more. Allura’s tent is technically not too far away and if he’s the reason she isn’t rested in the morning for her treaty proposal Lance will never forgive himself. ...then again...if  _he_ also isn’t well rested... “I can’t sleep...”

He can’t see Keith’s face anymore. He’s just a lump in the furry bedding. A sighing lump. “...whatdaya want  _me_ to do about it...”

The irritation is starting to creep into his tone, but Lance knows an opportunity when he sees it. And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t grab it. “Can I maybe...stay in here with you?”

It’s kind of a long shot but he takes it anyway, surprised when he’s not met with a fiery protest and more of a mellow, “...seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“What are you, five?”

“When it comes to being on an alien planet with weird creatures rummaging around in the dark, yes.”

Another sigh drifts up from the bed lump. Then silence. Like...a worrying amount of silence. And shit...what if Keith actually says no? What if he refuses and sends Lance away and then he’s not only right back in the situation he started in, but now with the added embarrassing sting of fresh rejection?

“...Keith?”

“Hurry up before I change my mind.”

Lance perks up. “Wh-... Really?”

“You have three seconds.”

And it’s got him scrambling forward, half of him relieved to have his prayers answered, the other half being familiar with Keith enough to know that those three seconds are absolutely real and ticking down relentlessly whether he gets his ass in gear or not.

He makes it just in time - slides into the empty space next to Keith and lets the bedding settle over him as he turns so their backs are facing each other. And suddenly Lance really  _is_ five years old, crawling into bed with his oldest brother after going against mama’s warning and watching that scary movie from his hiding spot on the stairs.

God...that was such a long time ago...

He wonders if they’re still watching scary movies...

Man, some of those were so obviously not for his eyes to see. Just like mama said. He can still see a couple images he’d rather not speak into the world when he lays down to sleep at night. That’s what he gets, he guesses. But he couldn’t have been the only kid to let morbid curiosity get the best of him.

“Keith...”

“Mm.”

“What’re you afraid of...?”

Just enough silence has passed between them that his question leaves Keith unsure where he lays beside him. Tentative. “What am I afraid of...?”

“Yeah.” Lance slips his arm out from under the bedding, letting it rest comfortably. “Spiders...snakes...heights... What’s your thing?”

There’s a little grunt, bothered as Keith repositions. “I don’t  _have_ a thing.”

“C’mon dude,  _everyone_ has a thing.”

“Mm.”

Lance rolls over onto his back, eyes roaming the mesh-like top that’s letting the stars peek through the top of the tent. He should’ve expected this. Fine, he’ll go first. “I don’t like the dark,” he says calmly, feeling oddly at ease even though he’s engulfed in it right this very second. “Or needles. Certain types of birds freak me out too for some reason.”

That earns him a little huff that sounds  _suspiciously_ like a laugh.

“Hey,” he snaps as he turns his head toward him, but it’s all in good nature. “I’m spillin’ my guts here - how dare you laugh at me.”

He can hear Keith murmur, but most importantly he can hear the smile still clinging to his lips as he says it. “Sorry...” 

Lance supposes he’ll take that. It’s been a while since he’s gotten Keith to smile. Maybe it’s because he’s been so uptight lately for a reason Lance can’t figure out. At first he thought it was his fault, but... Now he’s not sure. And he’s just pleased to hear it again after so long.

“Scorpions...”

Lance glances over. “Hm?”

But the back of Keith’s head doesn’t give him any answers. Nothing at all. Until, tucking in a little bit... “I don’t like scorpions.”

He’s sharing. Keith is sharing with him and Lance finds himself shuffling around - laying on his other side until the dark locks of Keith’s hair start to blend in with the dark stretch of nighttime around them.

“I feel that,” he hums. Shows some solidarity. “I can definitely feel that.”

Keith doesn’t say anything in response. He just drops that tidbit and then disappears into himself. But Lance is greedy for more. 

“Bet there were a lot where your little shack-thingy was...”

“Mm.”

That’s probably a yes. Nothing else though. Maybe it’s because they’re still talking about the animal Keith’s not too particularly fond of. Lance can understand that. He wouldn’t wanna embark on a drawn out discussion on those freaky little guinea-fowl. But he  _does_ wanna talk a little more.

“What about like...situations...”

He expects a heavy sigh but it never comes. Surprisingly. “Situations?”

“Yeah, like...” Lance furrows his brows in the dark, searching his brain. “This one time I was skating down this huge hill by my house. And I dunno if I hit a crack or if I was going too fast, but I flew off my board like twenty feet and almost got a concussion.”

“...really?”

“Yeah - hurt so fucking bad.” Lance’s grin is sheepish. “Point is I was too scared to skate down that hill for like,  _forever_ after that. Like I could feel my muscles tightening and shit when I got near it because I was afraid I was gonna take another header and scrape the side of my face all to hell again.”

He can hear the frown. The alarm. “You got hurt  _that_   _bad?”_

“Yeah.”

“Jesus, you idiot. Be more careful.”

It’s clearly an insult, but Lance can’t ignore the other sentiment lurking beneath it. The concern. The odd sort of protectiveness to it. He couldn’t ignore it if he tried, but he’s  _not_ trying. Because it’s a surprise but it’s also kind of...nice...

“Aw, you care about me.”

Keith physically draws into himself a few inches away.

And whoops, that was too much. He shouldn’t have said that.

Dang it, he just ruined a moment, didn’t he.

Lance suppresses a sigh. He’s way too good at that - at teasing Keith at the wrong time. He’s gonna get it right one of these days, but until then...

Keith’s back straightens as Lance’s fingers lightly graze over it in his attempt to hang onto his shirt from behind. He’s startled but not exactly in a bad way. And Lance will take what he can get.

“Thanks for letting me stay in here,” he says lowly. “I know you think I’m a big baby...”

The sigh he expects comes this time. “Lance. You’re not a baby.”

“You called me five.”

“I shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah, well you-”

Keith turns before he can finish, brows knit with a concerning amount of determination that has Lance’s eyes widening a little. Has his hands pulling back. Has the rest of his sentence vanishing into thin air because Keith is continuing whether he’s done or not.

“Okay look. I have to do something right now and I need you to shut up about it because I’m gonna kick myself if I don’t do it while I have the chance.”

It all rushes out. And he’s very close and very determined and Lance doesn’t know what to say except, “What-” and then he’s-... Keith is-...

...

Lance’s eyes flutter shut, the hands framing his cheeks warm but not as warm as when Keith swoops forward to capture Lance’s lips with his own.

It’s rushed and it’s unexpected but it’s-...it’s-

Keith’s lips leave him breathless as he tears away, movements too quick to catch his expression before he’s turning back over and stuffing himself down into the bedding.

And Lance...

They just...

“Holy shit.”

“Don’t.”

“Holy shit, Keith.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me Lance, I swear to god.”

Lance blinks. Blinks some more. And yikes, what is this fluffy thing happening inside his chest? “H-how-...how long were you planning on doing that?”

Only he doesn’t get an answer. 

And he really wants one.

And uh, he feels like he kind of deserves one after something like  _that._

“Are you seriously gonna kiss me like that and then freeze me out? Is this really happening?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

Lance is finding it increasingly hard to keep his voice down because: “You  _kissed_ me-”

“I know-”

“You kissed me-”

“I know Lance, just leave it alone - I don’t wanna talk about it-”

“But  _why-”_

“Because I’m afraid.” He snaps it. Bites it out quick but with an undeniable discomfort clinging to each word. 

And Lance wants to see his face. Wants to see his face. Wants to see his face so fucking bad, but...

He lets it go. Lets his gaze drop back to Keith’s shirt. Lets the silence soothe the tense muscles in Keith’s back until things have settled a little. 

And there’s still that fluffy air filling up Lance’s lungs even if Keith doesn’t want to address it, so... Maybe he can just... “Keith...?”

“...what.”

“Can I hug you?” 

He kind of... _really_ wants it. Doesn’t fully understand it but does know that he’s wanting it so bad that his fingers are itching to reach out again.

Only Keith isn’t answering. And not answering. And not answering. Long enough that Lance doesn’t even need him to anymore. 

“Okay sorry... I’m not trying to freak you out, just forget-”

“You can.”

Lance trips up a little for what feels like the fiftieth time tonight. But, “I can?”

And Keith’s face is hidden but he’s imagining there’s a lot going on in his head a few inches away. Especially when he nods. Doesn’t say anything but nods.

And ah. Okay good. Yes.

Lance takes a breath, the bedding pooling out a little over his arm as he circles around Keith’s chest underneath it and then just kind of...squeezes. It’s maybe a little too tight but he wants to squeeze him tighter, and judging by the way Keith’s hand comes up to fit over Lance’s forearm, he could go for it too.

So Lance does. He hugs him a little tighter and gets a little too close because he can smell Keith’s hair and he’s getting a little dizzy from it. But it’s good. And Keith seems to think it’s good. And it’s  _so_ good that Lance keeps his arm there when the appropriate time for a hug has ran its course. 

Keith doesn’t push him off, or drop his hand, or make any sort of indication that he’s anything but completely into it. So that’s where Lance stays, daring to snuggle up a little closer until he’s pressing against Keith’s back. 

And it’s-...

It feels right. Somehow.

Like really right. 

And he’s pretty sure Keith isn’t the only one wrapped up in some emotions here.

But they’re not gonna talk about it right now. They’ll find time at some point. Maybe when they aren’t on a far off planet in the middle of a peace treaty. No, for now, they’ll simply lie here, figuring some things out on their own in the meantime. 

Outside the tent, something rustles in the nearby trees. 

But Lance is already fast asleep.


	6. PART TWO of Lance Helping Shy Inexperienced College Kid Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of the drabble from chapter 4 because people were interested in it. please read chapter 4 if you haven't already, in order to understand what's happening in this one!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you read chapter 4? bc you should

Lance has never been good when it comes to temptation. He could list all the questionable things he’s done in the name of shitty self control, but sleeping with his sister’s boyfriend is the one everyone’s here for, isn’t it? So he might as well just jump straight to that.

It’s only been a few days. Since it happened. Since Lance set the bait in the empty house and hooked Keith like the expert angler he is. It’s only been a few days but they might as well have just rolled out of bed with how Keith’s been so skittish around him. 

It’s not that he hasn’t  _ always  _ been shy - not like he hasn’t always kind of bopped around without engaging Lance in any conversation that wasn’t absolutely necessary. It’s just now - now he won’t even look at him. Not when Lance is in the room. Not when he’s quietly answering one of Lance’s unrelated questions about next semester over pizza. No, the only time he actually makes eye-contact - the only time he actually  _ looks  _ at Lance - is when he’s sure Lance isn’t watching.

Except… 

Lance is always watching. Whether Keith can tell or not. And what makes it even more entertaining is when he graciously allows it for a little while, lets Keith look him over from across the pool deck undisturbed, and then flicks his eyes up to catch him with an interested little smirk. It dusts those cute cheeks with a blushy pink that Lance just wants to smooch over and over and over again. Except he never does. Because that’s usually when Nadia is finally noticing the change in her boyfriend’s posture and is hounding him about it. 

And yes, before anyone says it, Lance knows he’s being a tease. He knows, okay? It’s just-...god, how can he  _ not  _ tease this absolute darling of a boy at every possible chance? If there’s an opening, you can bet your ass he’s gonna take it. Especially because now he knows just  _ how  _ deep that blush can get. And exactly how far gone out the atmosphere he can float when his eyes catch on something he likes. So yeah, call Lance a tease all you want, but he knows for a fact he’s not the only one tracing back to the night Keith gave in to temptation just as hard and slowly eased his way inside.

And  _ that,  _ dear friends, is why it’s so fun to work this boy over without so much as a finger on him.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun has set, the windows are down, and Lance is returning from his last minute bubble tea date with Hunk, his elbow propped casually against the open car window as he turns his way into the subdivision. 

He’s traded his usual poppy playlist for something that fits the warm summer evening, the guitar notes strumming calmly as he eases through a stop sign to make his last turn, the lone figure sitting at the edge in the fenced off residency pool registering in his brain only after passing it completely. 

Because that-…

Hang on…

Lance pulls into the driveway, engine settling as he takes his keys and grabs his bubble tea, curiosity piqued because that was definitely Keith. Keith was definitely just sitting all forlornly at the edge of the pool like that.

Welp...Lance wouldn’t be a good role model if he didn’t go check on him, now would he? 

The slam of his car door sets off the dogs across the street, but he’s already making his way back out towards the direction of the community building, keys jingling as he twirls them around his middle finger by the keyring as he walks. 

The outdoor pool is fenced off and gated with a code for a reason that Lance finds extremely bougie, but he also can’t deny that he himself has the potential to be extremely bougie at times, so he punches the four numbers into the keypad - 4-0-7-1 - and then waits for the gate to click before pushing it open. It makes its god-awful creaking noise, but even that doesn’t seem to be enough to get the attention of the boy now coming into clear view as Lance saunters closer.

It’s like he’s in a sad music video - Keith, that is - his legs draped over and dangling in the water, head turned down, obviously lost in thought. 

And they can’t have that, now can they?

“Hey you,” Lance smiles, correctly predicting the tension that immediately seizes in Keith’s shoulders at the mere sound of his voice. “Whatchya doin’ all the way out here?”

His approach is in no way aggressive, or even all that  _ sudden,  _ but it’s got Keith’s back straightening and posture going noticeably rigid with every step. 

He doesn’t answer. Which...Lance kind of thought he’d get at least a surface-level ‘I dunno’ or something. Maybe he truly did spook him.

Okay, different approach. “It’s cool…” Lance kicks his shoes off and leaves them on the other side of the pool before rounding it to come closer. “I need a break from Nadia sometimes too. Surprised you lasted this long, honestly.” He can feel the eyes on him as he nears the corner where Keith has positioned himself. “Cool if I sit?”

Keith’s got his hands in his lap...fingers curled...but… 

He nods.

Doesn’t say anything.

Lance takes it as the go-ahead.

The water is finally cooling off after being heated by the sun all day. It’s reaching that temperature that pools are  _ supposed  _ to be at, the chill working its way up Lance’s calves as he joins the pity party on the other side of the corner. 

“Ahhh…” he sighs almost dramatically, eyes closing as he hams up what’s already a truly glorious feeling. Then, reaching for his cup, “You guys go to the bubble tea place yet?”

He takes a sip through the straw, waiting for what he hopes will be a neutral enough conversation topic to get Keith talking. 

Keith shakes his head. 

Okay, just a little more of a push. “S’really good,” he mumbles through a swallow. “This one’s coconut. You should try it.”

It’s what gets Keith’s eyes up - fucking finally - the cup held out between them as he looks it over in the dim lighting of the underwater pool lights. He’s cute. Doesn’t really look any worse for wear or anything. Is eyeing it with a sense of sweet curiosity when he finally says it.

“What...makes it bubble tea…?”

Yes. Ten points for Lance - he finally got this kid to fucking talk. “It’s the little-...” He swirls the tea around and holds it up higher as explanation, the black orbs dancing around in the cup at the bottom. What  _ are  _ they actually? All these years and he’s never actually thought to ask. “They’re like-...little flavor pod...things…”

Keith’s brows furrow. Just the slightest bit. Just enough to vaguely let on that he doesn’t trust whatever Lance is trying to pass off as fact. 

Which is valid, Lance supposes. But Keith's finally talking to him so he takes another sip, making sure to feel the little bubble climb up the thick straw, and then opens his mouth to show the black orb balancing on his tongue, the rest of his mouth filled with the milky white...liquid...of the tea… Shit he really didn’t think this one through at all.

Keith catches on immediately - doesn’t even have to fucking say anything with the way his gaze tears away from the  _ very  _ suggestive sight only a foot away.

Shit.

Lance swallows. (Okay, it’s kind of funny though, you have to admit.) But it’s nothing he can’t fix really quickly. “Just try it,” he insists, this time reaching over so far that the straw is nearly hovering under Keith’s mouth. 

And it’s very obvious Keith is looking for the distraction, because it only takes a second of contemplation, then he’s tucking his hair behind his ear and lowering his head to wrap his lips around the straw waiting for him to take a sip.

His initial reaction seems neither put off nor overly satisfied, and Lance is just leaning back and setting the cup down on the pavement when Keith’s nose is scrunching up a little, the bubbles no doubt popping in his mouth and holy crap that’s adorable. Of course he’d be adorable drinking bubble tea for the first time. He’s adorable for  _ all  _ his first times.

“Good, right?” Lance grins.

It takes a second, but then he’s getting a nod in response, Keith swallowing and then his hands going right back into his lap. “Mhm.”

Lance wants to scoop him up. He always wants to scoop him up. About the only time he doesn’t want to scoop him up is when he’s already imagined scooping him up and has moved onto the part where he’s stripping his pants off.

Which...speaking of…

“So…” Lance kicks his feet in the water a few times, watching the ripples that spread out to the rest of the pool. “You’ve been abnormally quiet around me lately.” He knows it’s not a shock to either of them, which is why he says it so bluntly. “But since you’re still checking me out every chance you can get, I get the feeling there’s something you wanna say to me.”

It’s not a shock but it still lands pretty heavily in the small space between them, Keith’s ankles crossing under the water as he stares at them instead of answering.

Lance sees it coming a mile away, easing his weight further back on his hands as he hums, “Want me to tell you what I think’s goin’ on up there?” Because he knows Keith’s not about to tell him on his own.

He gets a quick little glance - fleeting - more curiosity but not willing to communicate it, but-

“Well first off,” Lance supposes, “I think you feel guilty.” He lets it sink in for a moment, eyes roaming over the boy next to him before elaborating. “I think you feel guilty that you slept with someone other than Nadia,  _ but... _ I think you feel even guiltier that you liked it.” He doesn’t wait for an answer. Because he’s not getting one. And he still has to say, eyes not leaving him: “And I think what makes you feel guiltiest of all is that you wanna do it again.”

Keith’s grown completely still beside him. Immovable. Doesn’t even look like he’s breathing.

And Lance, god help him… “I’d love it if you’d talk to me, sweetheart.”

He throws the pet name out there just to see. Just to see if maybe...possibly...it’ll-

“I-...we shouldn’t have done that…”

Lance schools the look of surprise fighting its way to his face. Because wow that...worked almost startlingly well. He’s just gonna tuck that away for future use.

Alright focus. “Okay,” he encourages on, “I hear you…” leaves it open ended with room to continue. 

Keith, unsurprisingly, doesn’t take the bait.

So Lance continues for him. “What did you think of it though? Now that it’s over?” He takes a sip from the straw. Lets the bubbles burst in his mouth and then hands it over between them.

Keith eyes it before hesitantly accepting, letting the bottom of it rest in his lap as his brain processes. “It was-...” His cheeks are starting to turn Lance’s favorite color. Which is saying something considering how dim the pool lights are beneath them. “...uh...”

He takes a sip. 

Lets it rest in his lap again.

Lance waits as patiently as he can considering how badly his fingers are itching to reach out and pull him into his lap. 

“I-...really liked it…” he murmurs, thighs pressed together, “...a lot…”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck he’s so fucking cute. Lance can  _ feel  _ the desire to pull him close washing over his chest but: “Me too.” Stay cool. Don’t scare him off.

Not when he seems to be growing more willing to talk. “I uh...I actually…” his hold around the tea tightens, “I can’t stop thinking about it…which is dumb, I know-”

“Oh it’s not dumb,” Lance can’t help the frank chuckle, “It’s definitely not dumb. You know how many times I’ve gotten off just thinking about it?”

Keith’s eyelashes flutter as they close, a hand resting over his eyes and tone gone labored under his breath, “Oh my god…”

It’s too much information but Lance doesn’t even feel bad. Not with how it’s getting him these Grade A faces. “Ugh...you’re so precious when you’re embarrassed.”

The tea gets set on the pavement so Keith’s hand can join the other one covering his face, a muffled little groan escaping from under them as he leans forward, elbows propped on his thighs. 

It’s far too adorable for his own good and honestly Lance can’t hold it back anymore - can’t stop himself from chuckling and scooting his way around the corner to come sit right next to him. 

He wraps his arms around the little huddled mess of a dude and rocks them off even for a couple sways, indulging the ache in his chest to  _ hold hold hold  _ and: “Keith sweetie, where’s your phone?”

“What?” (It’s muffled, though.) 

“Your phone. Where is it.”

“The...house?”

And it’s all Lance needs to hear before using his hold around him to drag them both from the ledge of the pool and down into the water, the noise coming from the boy in his arms an honest to god  _ whimper  _ of surprise right before the-

_ SPLASH _

Lance surfaces with a laugh, Keith already rubbing the water from his eyes and pushing his bangs off his forehead and  _ dang  _ he forgot how this kid’s cuteness factor dials up a few notches with his bangs back like this. Seriously, God really fucked him with the whole self confidence thing but he sure as fuck filled in all the rest of the space with loveable appeal, holy  _ shit. _

“Why…” comes the tiny little whine of betrayal. 

Again, Lance doesn’t even feel bad. “‘Cause baby as cute as you are, you seriously gotta cool off a little.”

Keith’s frown doesn’t even seem to pack much heat. It’s more for show than anything. And it’s perfect because Lance is moving on regardless.

He lets out a little grunt as he peels his soaked tank top off and throws it back onto the deck with a heavy  _ thwack.  _ Now that he’s shirtless, he’s banking on the fact that Keith’s eyes are on him as he turns back around…

And low and behold…

“Hm…” He chuckles again. It’s hard not to as he slowly makes his way over and gets his fingers under the hem of Keith’s shirt underwater. “We really gotta get you better at stealing peeks...”

He expects the hands that come down to settle over his, slow against the drag of the water but unmistakable in their purpose.

But, “You really want this thing clingin’ to you…?”

Keith blinks...brain working...and when he pulls away from Lance’s touch, it’s so he can turn, head low as he takes a second and then pulls his shirt off over his head, the smack against the pavement far more controlled before he turns around.

The distance he keeps between them is considerable. As is the way he lets the water reach all the way up to his shoulders, the rest of him hiding beneath the ripples as Lance takes it upon himself to move closer, which  _ doesn’t  _ go unnoticed.

“You have really nice muscles, you know that?” Lance isn’t just saying it to schmooze. He does honestly admire the subtle definition that Keith seems to keep covered up despite the fact. “You work out or anything?”

He’s close enough to reach out now, hands finding Keith’s bicep under the surface of the water and appreciating the firm muscle with a squeeze.

Keith swallows. Tenses not because he’s flexing but because he’s nervous. Doesn’t really matter because he’s answering with a quiet little, “...sometimes…”

Hmm… “Only sometimes?” Lance grins teasingly, knowing he’s closer than he needs to be. “You sure about that? Definitely feels like it’s more than  _ sometimes…” _

Keith won’t look at him. Not this close. Especially not when Lance’s touch gravitates from his bicep down to just under his chest, fingers spreading over where his abs are tensing just as expected. 

“You know...you can touch me too…” Lance murmurs, “If you want… And I’m pretty sure you do…”

Because Keith may not be looking at his face, but his eyes are definitely having trouble breaking away from where Lance is doing no such hiding beneath the surface. Over his shoulders. The span of his chest. Even lower where the view has gone blurry, but that’s not stopping him from looking.

“I uh…” he swallows thickly as Lance’s fingertips trail over his abdomen, “I shouldn’t…”

“Mm…?”

“...I shouldn’t be here…” steadying breath, “...with you…”

Lance’s grin is mischievous. Because there  _ is  _ a certain level of validity to Keith’s point. It’s the first time they’ve been alone since that night. The first time Lance has actually managed to keep Keith in one place to talk with him, and… Well, let’s just say there isn’t much talking going on… 

So when he says it again, eyes closing like he’s more-so trying to convince himself than anything: “I shouldn't _be_ with you…”  Lance gives him another simple out, knowing full well he’s got this kid hooked just like before. 

“Then leave, honey…” All from a little touching and a whole lotta mental images from when he rode him nice and quick and got him coming inside someone for the first time.

Keith doesn’t move. Not even an inch. It gives him a lot of room to let his lips part and a tiny little breath out as Lance’s fingers trail just lowly enough to brush over a very interesting bulge pressing against his shorts.

And oh...look at that...

Lance gives a hum consideration, his own interest caught. “Well well…” Isn’t  _ that  _ something. He didn’t even really  _ do  _ anything yet, holy shit.

He gives another short brush of his knuckles over the soft fabric and suddenly Keith’s hands are landing on him for the first time, but only as a means to push himself back, eyes squeezed shut and brows etched together with either embarrassment or  _ something  _ but he’s got the space between them. He’s got breathing room. And he’s-...he’s got breathing room but is still somehow not breathing.

“It’s okay, Keith...” Lance has to reassure him. Fucking  _ has  _ to. “You don’t have to be so embarrassed all the time.” Even if that was... _ considerably quick. _

Honestly, one of these times this kid is gonna hyperventilate and Lance is gonna have to drive him to the hospital with a hard on or something. And then he’ll have to call Nadia because he’d be obligated but then that’d bring up the whole ‘well why was he hard’ and blah blah blah which would lead down a whole other road that would just be-

Lance snaps out of his internal rambling at the sound of Keith clearing his throat, in his own head just a small span of water away and oh yeah - Lance needs to get back to the task at hand.

“How ‘bout you let me help you…”

That has those eyes on him again - very  _ very  _ heavy - “What?”

Lance’s offer really shouldn’t come as a surprise and yet here they are, Keith looking like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. It’s like they’re unintentionally replaying that night once again. And let’s not lie, Lance is all for it. 

“I didn’t get my mouth on you last time,” he reasons, the water parting in his wake as he moves in, “Honestly I’ve kinda been craving it a little.”

Keith’s so fucking tense when he arrives, his chest rising and falling far too quickly for a little easy dirty talk. It’s probably due to the fact that his brain clearly won’t let him process when he gets like this. Hence the: “You-... You’ve  _ what…?” _

It pulls a low chuckle from Lance, space closing as he makes himself nice and cozy - “Why wouldn’t I?” - snakes his hand down under the water and cups Keith through his shorts and holy  _ fuck  _ is he hard. “You know I love your dick...”

Keith’s hips stutter forward, his mouth dropping open from the touch and a breath spilling out. “Fuck…”

Music to Lance’s ears. “You’re gonna let me blow you, right?”

Almost as good as the tremble in his exhale as he’s palmed up and down. “U-...uhm…”

He’s struggling.

He’s struggling and Lance is eating it up. “Because I’d really love to,” he hums, the corner of his mouth quirking up playfully, “I’d really love to suck you off if you’d let me...”

It’s when he slides his hand under the waistband of Keith’s shorts and his boxers and gets a real hold on things. And if he thought this boy was shuddering before… 

It’s like he’s tapped into Keith’s body and found just the right buttons to press to convince him. “O-... Okay…” So breathy… So cute…

Lance smiles. “Really?”

His nod is punctuated with a buck of his hips, eyes fluttered closed.

And Lance so loves to tease. “You sure, baby?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s really okay?”

“Hhhh…” Keith’s head tilts forward, brows furrowing. “...y-...yeah…”

And really? Does Lance have to say it? 

Alright, he will.

Hook, line, and sinker.

The summer night air feels so fucking good on Lance’s skin as he pulls them both out of the water, Keith in tow behind him as he leads them around the edge of the pool.

“Where’re we going…” Keith’s in a bit of a daze but not so much that he doesn’t know the right questions to ask.

But, “Just in here,” Lance assures him, entering the number into the keypad and waiting for the door to the clubhouse to click as it unlocks. “Don’t worry.”

The inside is dark. Empty. Fancy as hell as it always is and every piece of expensive furniture is theirs to enjoy.

“Shouldn’t-...uh…” Keith’s trying again, eyes beginning to dart around. And Lance remembers from last time that that’s not a good sign. “Um…”

Their wet feet slap against the tile as they leave a trail of water behind them, Lance leading him to one of the white cloth chairs near the billiards table. And it’s a good thing he’s literally leading him by the hand because Keith is starting to  _ panic. _

“Hang on-”

“Don’t worry, Keith - it’s all good.” He’s insisting it even as he pulls him around and sits him down onto the chair, watching the cloth dampen from their skin with an odd sense of satisfaction. “I’m gonna scoot your shorts down, okay?”

The water trapped in his own is slowly making a puddle on the tile below him as he kneels, but what’s most important right now is dealing with Keith’s as much as he’ll let him, and he already knows he probably won’t let them come  _ all  _ the way off. So. 

Trying to peel wet shorts and boxers off wet skin is a challenge, but Lance makes quick work of it, knowing he’ll be rewarded soon enough.

And soon enough it is, Keith’s hips settling back down and bare ass on the expensive chair and  _ oh yeah… _

“Mm…” Lance grins in satisfaction, getting himself between Keith’s knees and wrapping his hand around his prize.  _ “There’s  _ that big cock I was talking about…”

It hits Keith in more ways than one, a shiver running up his body as his head tips back from the sensation. And it’s cute and all - it really is - but Lance has wanted this dick in his mouth ever since he saw it the very first time, so, if you don’t mind…

Keith’s hands immediately fist on the chair arms, his back straightening as Lance wraps his lips around him and fucking finally gets to swallow him down. The sound he makes is like it’s being punched out of him. Another instance of music to Lance’s ears. 

“Mmmm…” He knows it’s a lot all at once but he can’t help the hum of satisfaction. Can’t help the joy from the shiver he gets in return. Can’t help but enjoy the bizarrely arousing taste of chlorine that just barely hangs on as he hollows his cheeks and bobs his head as slowly as he can allow himself. 

Because he wants it to last. And he’s digging the noises that Keith’s trying but (really kind of pathetically) failing to bite down. And he knows they’re both aware of how they definitely  _ should not be doing this, _ and yet…

“Feel good, baby?” 

The heavy-lidded gaze as Keith lets his eyes fall open to look down at him is to die for. “...fu-... ...yeah…”

“Yeah?” Lance is still stroking him. Still smirking. “Feels good?”

“Yeah...”

“You like that it’s me giving you your first blow job?”

Keith’s breath is so heavy as he lets it out, tongue darting to wet his lips. “...fuck...”

Lance hums a snicker - takes a second to lick a long path up the underside of Keith’s dick - ends it with a hot breath and says, “You know, it makes me really wanna ride you…” The groan he gets is tempting, “But we’ll just have to save that for the next time we’re alone, okay sweetheart?”

That’s enough to have Keith’s head dropping back against the chair, adam’s apple bobbing in the span of his throat. “God…” And then, as Lance takes him back into his mouth:  _ “God-!” _

It’d be funny if it wasn’t also devastatingly hot, Lance picking up speed but also finally giving into himself and working a hand under the waistband of his own shorts. He gives himself a stroke - appreciates the heat it sets off - adjusts his position so he can move faster and jerk himself off to the same rhythm as the bob of his head.

Above him, Keith is visibly having trouble keeping his shit together. Breath coming quick. Fingers clenching. Face red, even in the moonlight streaming in from the big bay windows. He’s the posterboy of first times and Lance still doesn’t know why that gets him off so much but it really does. It really truly does. And he needs this boy’s hands on him right now.

Keith follows his lead as Lance pulls one of his fists and convinces it to unfurl and card through his hair. Shaky fingers. Uncertain pressure. So many fucking nerves pinging off in this kid’s body that Lance can almost feel it but god _ damn  _ is he worth the extra time - the extra direction. Especially when his other hand finds its way to the frame the other side of Lance’s face without needing to be lead. 

“Mm, you’re such a good boy,” Lance mumbles wetly against his cock, breath beginning to pick up as well, “Such a good fucking boy, you know that?”

The grip in his hair tightens a little, whether Keith means to or not is unclear but Lance is  _ here for it.  _ Fucking jerks himself quicker to it. Realizes Keith might not be the only one coming too soon from it.

And speaking of Keith, “Hhho... _ fuck… _ Oh my  _ god…” _

“Talk to me,” Lance encourages - sucks the tip into his mouth and stops himself from doing about five different things because he knows they’d instantly push Keith right up over that edge, “Talk to me baby…”

He settles for swirling his tongue and then going back to bobbing his head, interested in whatever is trying to sneak its way out of Keith’s mouth like-

“Feels so good…” It’s echoing off the dark walls. “...never thought-...” Off the expensive paintings. “H-... How the fuck... is this happening…”

He wants to say ‘again’ - was going to - Lance can almost feel it - but something stops him. And it might be the quickness of their pace or the unwillingness to acknowledge that he’s in this questionable situation with his girlfriend's older brother yet again but-

“Shit-” it’s louder - almost panicked - “-shit shit shit-” solid enough to echo again and Lance knows what that means - hollows his cheeks and bobs his head faster to chase after it and he’s looking up just in time to lock onto Keith’s eyes and- “I’m c-”

Keith’s hips jerk forward, slipping out of his control as his mouth drops open and another one of those punched-out moans bounces impressively well off the ceiling, his thrusts timed with the warmth as he comes in Lance’s mouth. 

And Lance, he stays firmly in place, enjoying the sight and letting it fill and coaxing what’s left with a few easy strokes. Because he just got the best idea in the world. 

The breath Keith lets out is his longest and shakiest yet, his body still crouched forward and in the perfect position for Lance to smirk as he waits for him to look down at him again.

And when he does - when he’s sure he's got his full attention…

Lance parts his lips, jaw flexing as he lets his mouth drop open for Keith to watch his tongue flick...curl...roll in the pool of Keith’s come that he’s let fill his mouth.

And oh shit. Oh  _ shit the fucking look on this kid’s face. _

Keith’s eyes shut in what Lance can only describe as ‘I’m so glad I saw that, but now I’m not gonna be able to see anything  _ but  _ that’ as he collapses back onto the chair with a breathy:  “...jesus christ…”

Lance’s grin is terrible. 

So fucking worth it. 

Now that his show is over, he swallows it down, happy with his work. And yes, that definitely contributed to how close he’s getting as he continues to jerk himself off on the floor.

Except:

“Can I-...” Keith’s still trying to catch his breath but he’s letting his eyes open again.  _ Trying.  _ “Can-... I wanna help this time…”

Lance has to say, he does perk up a little at that, the idea of not having to get his own self off for the second time now sounding pretty fucking good, actually. “Oh yeah?”

His grin must strike enough confidence in Keith to push on because he nods in response.

And that’s how he finds himself stepping out of the shorts trying to cling to his thighs, naked as hell and straddling his sister’s cute-ass boyfriend in the middle of the residency clubhouse like it’s no big deal. 

Keith’s hand is as warm and adorably unsure as it was the first time, but it wraps around him under Lance’s own and the pace he helps him start is  _ just  _ short of what’s gonna get him there. Yeah, he’s gonna milk this for all it’s worth. Sue him or something.

“Mm...that’s good,” he purrs as soon as he lifts his hand off to leave Keith on his own. “Keep doing it just like that…”

The chair beneath them is so damp there might be some permanent damage soon. But Lance is finding it hard to care with the way Keith is glancing down to not so subtly look at how he’s doing.

Lance grins...hums a little… “You certainly do like to watch, don’t you sweetheart…?” 

It’s more of a rhetorical question but Keith is nodding anyway - claiming it - accepting that yes, he’s getting something out of sitting here watching Lance rock his hips on top of him while he’s giving him a handjob.

And hey, who’s to judge? 

“You  _ should  _ watch,” Lance encourages lowly, back arching a bit from the heat pooling between his legs. “You should since you’re doing such a good job jerking me off.”

Keith licks his lips, eyes trained. “Am I?”

“Mhm…” He loops his arms around Keith’s neck, lets his eyes fall shut, “Mhm- just a little faster, baby-... Just a little- _ hnnn yeah that’s good, just like that…”  _

He forgot Keith’s ability to follow directions at the drop of a hat - the concept catching him off guard but in the best way possible as Keith’s hand works him over quicker just as requested.

“Like that?”

“Oh yeah…”

“That’s good?”

“Yeah that’s fucking  _ great,  _ honey-  _ Shit _ …” Lance is losing himself a little bit. He’ll admit it. But it’s almost impossible not to with how the boy under him is trying so hard to please - trying so hard to get it right and get him off and  _ fuck.  _ “Don’t stop…”

Keith does as he’s told, his hand stroking and eyes coming up to watch Lance’s reactions with this adorable sense of curiosity that’s got Lance hard as fuck without even trying. 

And- “God, Keith…” He’s so fucking cute. So fucking innocent. Has damp bangs falling into his dark beautiful eyes but Lance sweeps them away - tucks them behind Keith’s ears - trails the pads of his thumbs under Keith’s cheekbones and over his jawline and across where his bottom lip is bitten red and- “Shit- can you smile for me...? Can you smile for me, baby...?”

It’s an odd request, and it must be strange to hear, but Lance is rocking his hips only a few more times and then the corner of Keith’s mouth is turning upwards...curving...spreading and dancing across his lips under Lance’s thumbs in an endearing little smile that’s never seen the light of day around Lance and he’s-

Ugh-

“God you’re so fucking cute,” Lance practically groans, taking it in a second longer and then bringing Keith’s head in to rest the side of it against his chest. “Such a cutie- it’s not fair…”

Keith lets himself be held. Keeps flicking his wrist. Says, warm breath against Lance’s chest, as honest as can be, “I wanna get you off…”

Lance’s eyes drop shut, the heat unmistakable, “Keep going,” hips working, “Keep going honey I’m so fucking close.”

He’s right there - just needs a little bit more - has his fingers threading through Keith’s damp hair and has Keith’s head against his chest and-

“Don’t stop, baby-”

“Okay-”

“Don’t st-... _ ohh I’m gonna come-” _

The first wave of pleasure rolls over him nice and easy - reliable and familiar and almost satisfying until Keith’s hand stops moving - but  _ it’s okay _ because Lance gets a hand down there to coach him through the rest because  _ he doesn’t know better  _ \- because he hasn’t done it before and he just needs the direction and then it’s like there wasn’t even any interruption because Lance is back on it, eyes rolling shut but not before he catches a glimpse of that astonished gaze locked on him as his orgasm works through his body.

He’s also got the wherewithal to hear Keith’s hazy “holy shit…” 

The wonder of it. 

The awe. 

Probably the sheer astonishment that he’s got Lance naked in his lap. Got his hands on his shoulders. Got his come on his-...

Lance steadies his breath before letting himself take in the sight of Keith coming to grips with the fact that a guy just came on him for the first time. And it’s...seeming to go surprisingly well, actually.

“I’ll get you a towel,” he assures, voice just a little ragged.

Keith nods underneath him. Takes a second. Then, that shyness returning like it never left, “Did you-...uh…” Another try, “Was that...good?”

He’s-...he’s  _ self conscious.  _ Trying to figure out if he did a good job or not. Lance would bring him in real close if he wasn’t positive the jizz squishing between them would freak him out. 

So, instead, “It was  _ very  _ good, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. You did a really great job.” He smiles to solidify it, breathing still labored a bit. He wishes he could elaborate - he really does - but his post-orgasm brain is making it a little difficult to form cohesive thoughts at the moment.

It doesn’t seem to matter to Keith. On the contrary, the boy underneath him seems  _ quite  _ satisfied with himself, the smallest trace of a grin ghosting over his lips as he lets his gaze fall.

Absolutely precious.

“I’m gonna get a towel, and we’re gonna clean you up,” Lance starts off in the right direction, weight on his thighs as he balances to make his way out of Keith’s lap, “And then we’re gonna go back to the house like nothing h-”

He stops. Sentence cuts off. Stares down at where Keith is hard as a rock again, the blush that’s dusting his cheeks already standing out strikingly well against the expensive white chair.

Oh.

_ Well. _

“Damn, honey.”

Keith’s brows furrow, refusing to meet his gaze but seemingly ready to defend himself, only-

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Lance hums, a wicked smile dancing across his face as he makes his way back over to the chair and the boy and the looming sense that he’s still got some work to do. “It’s a good thing you’re so fucking cute.”

Yep…

The evening is far from over.


	7. PART THREE of Lance Helping Shy Inexperienced College Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> should i just put this all in one isolated fic?   
> i should just put this all in one isolated fic.  
> im not gonna put this all in one isolated fic.

Lance has never been good when it comes to temptation.

He forgets to go pick up his bubble tea from the side of the pool after hooking up with Keith in the clubhouse and a raccoon comes along and knocks it into the water after they leave.

Management has to drain the pool and Lance wants to tell Keith because he finds it endlessly funny but he can’t. Because Keith’s already occupied with dodging Nadia’s bitchy mood. And Lance knows far too well that that’s a full-time job all on its own. Especially when the full brunt of it’s being zeroed in on him with nowhere to escape.

Lance minds his business. 

Folds a little laundry.

Sips some herbal tea he made because the thought of The Bubble Tea Incident has him regretting his losses. 

But mostly he just sits and listens to the muffled sounds of Nadia bitching that poor kid out from a room away, Keith’s mumbled responses doing nothing to take the edge off.

 

* * *

 

 

The next few days play out...strangely.

Lance moves about with his life and helps his middle sister fill out job applications like the good big bro he is, but the overall vibe in the house has taken an unmistakably tense turn. Only it isn’t the two of them. It’s not their doing.

You can already guess where the tension is emanating from.

Keith has drawn into himself almost completely - is trying very  _ very  _ hard not to take up space around everyone. Around Lance. Mostly around Nadia.

It’s an issue.

“Hey. Child. Why’re you being such a dick to Keith lately?”

He can’t be the only one who’s noticed the not so subtle increase in the number of times he’s seen that poor boy sitting somewhere by himself in the house, his sister either with her door closed upstairs or off somewhere else. And he just wants to know why, is all. 

Except: “None of your business.”

She’s playing a Yakuza game. Lance can’t tell which one just by looking at the screen but that’s not really the point right now, is it? 

“It’s obviously your own problem,” he supposes nonchalantly, slumping on the door frame as she plays on. “I can’t picture that kid doin’ anything even remotely bad to justify how much of a bitch you’re being.”

Well. Except for the Big Bad thing. And the Not As Big But Still Pretty Bad thing. But there’s no way Keith has the guts to tell her, so that can’t be it. Right?

Kiryu slams a sandwich board over a thug’s back on screen, the resulting shout the only response Nadia seems willing to offer. 

Fine. Whatever.

“Well,” he says on an inhale as he pulls himself from the door frame, “Enjoy kicking your absolute puppy of a boyfriend while he’s down, I guess…”

He shuts her door on the way out, the  _ ka-ching _ of yen that's fluttering from the knocked out thugs cutting out behind it.

* * *

 

Another day goes by.

Lance’s middle sister ropes him into face-timing their parents at their summer home and it goes...about as well as Lance thought it would. (Although he’d  _ much  _ rather have them there than here while he is. One hundred percent.)

Point is time is passing and tension is lingering and he hasn’t seen Keith occupying space until it’s the space just outside his doorway, eyes downcast and a hand reaching out to rest on the wood as he no doubt psychs himself up for something.

Lance is stretched out on his bed, his on-again-off-again Rabb.it stream with Hunk fading into background noise as he watches him, interest stirred.

Because Keith’s just kind of standing there. In his head. Eyes roaming the carpet. And…

“Hello,” Lance tries. It comes out sarcastic. He really doesn’t mean it to. Goes for a friendly offer of: “Did you need somethin’?”

It has Keith glancing up at him -  _ so  _ fucking quickly - and then glancing down the hallway and then glancing back at him. It’s clear he knows he’s not supposed to be here. And Lance is almost a little confused until the sound of the shower running behind the closed bathroom door across the hall is registering in his head.

So. This kid’s been waiting for a safe time. A time when Nadia’s otherwise incapacitated and unable to catch him doing...whatever.

“I uh… I have a question…”

It feeds Lance’s curiosity too well. “Shoot.”

Keith shifts his weight, still peering in through the doorway. But the coast must be clear, because then he starts off, a little unsure: “If I’m, like, into…” his voice drops low, hushed, _“...doing stuff with you...” -_ ah - “That means I’m-…” he glances to the bathroom door over his shoulder, and then back to the carpet when he says it, “That means I’m _...gay..._  ...right...?”

Lance blinks.

Takes a second.

Ohhhhh. So it’s  _ this. _

The music from the movie he’s streaming with Hunk cuts out as he mutes it and sets his laptop to the side. And then, trying to keep the massive wave of empathetic pity stuffed in his chest…

Lance flattens his hand and taps the empty space on the bed next to him. Welcoming, but decisive.

Keith’s halfway through firing off a look of concern when Lance snuffs it out.

“It’s alright, nothing’s happening,” he smiles through it, “Just wanna chitchat.”

It must be a mixture of his friendly tone and the fact that the shower’s still running, because there’s only a moment’s hesitation before Keith cautiously takes a step into Lance’s room.

The floorboards creak under him, a flashback to that first night - the Big Bad. Lance allows a memory or two but then pushes the rest aside in order to focus on the task at hand, his mattress dipping as Keith sits stiffly at the corner.

Cute. 

Anyway.

“Alright,” Lance begins, “To answer your question: yeah, you could be gay.” But Keith  _ is  _ currently in a relationship with a girl, so he feels obligated to include: “Or you could be bi. Or pan or something if you like more than just guys.”

It doesn’t seem to help. Only seems to get Keith more in his thoughts, his head hanging a little when he says it. “I still don’t-...uh...”

Lance waits for him. Tries to, at least, but can’t help the curiosity. “Hm?”

“I like…our...” he gestures vaguely between the two of them - more-so the space between their laps - but this is an important discussion so Lance is going to pass over how awkwardly adorable it is. Especially when Keith continues. “But I dunno if-... I still don’t know about other guys…”

Ah. So it’s one of those things. 

“Sexuality shit is complicated, Keith-”

“I’m really,  _ really _ confused-”

“I know, honey. It’s okay.”

It slips. Has Keith’s pretty eyes flitting up to his and then blinking away to the side. 

And Lance has to keep going - has to stay on task - despite his wish for the boy at the end of his bed to loosen up a little. “Is this the first time you’ve thought about it?”

His wish, it seems, will go unanswered for now, Keith’s back still stiff as a board and hands in his lap, “I dunno…” wringing fingers, “I don’t really have anyone else I can talk to about this…”

And oh...that painful little squeeze in Lance’s heart… 

Why does it feel like he’s being imprinted on… 

Okay, time for some helpful advice from a wise elder. 

“Listen, Keith… It’s not something you’re gonna figure out overnight, ya know? It’s gonna take a little time. Or maybe even a lot of time.” That last part slaps a frown on Keith’s face but- “What I’m saying is it’s okay,” Lance smiles, as warmly as possible without getting mushy. “And people go through this shit all the time. And you don’t have to figure it out right this second, okay?”

Except the frown hasn’t gone away, even with Lance’s reassurance. And when Keith mumbles, “I mean, I kinda do…” he’s suddenly not the only one.

Because what? “What do you mean?” There shouldn’t be a time frame on figuring out who-

“Nadia really wants to sleep together.”

The silence that creeps in is heavy - with Keith’s embarrassment - his stress - Lance’s gears turning and his thoughts connecting and…

Hang on…

_ “...that’s _ why you guys are fighting so much?”

Is he fucking serious? Is  _ she  _ fucking serious?

Keith’s gaze won’t leave his lap, something downright unhealthy going on in that brain of his as he rubs his thumb over his knuckle. 

And Lance just- “I’m sorry, hang on. You’re telling me she’s giving you shit because you won’t-”

The muffled squeak of the shower handle twisting and the water halting in the pipes has Keith suddenly  _ very  _ in tune - suddenly  _ very  _ aware of everything around him as he gathers to his feet with a little bit of a scramble.

And, “Keith…” but he’s still moving - still zeroing in on the door while there’s still time even when, “Keith, honey…” and then he’s gone. He’s just...up and gone. Like a skittish fawn at the sight of a hunter.

And Lance is desperate to go scoop back him up and lay him down and cover him up with about fourteen blankets to keep him safe.

 

* * *

 

 

So in all reality, Lance obviously can’t go scoop this kid up and hide him in his bed for the rest of the summer. But what he  _ can  _ do, is go lay pressure on his stupid-ass sister. 

“Hey, so I’m gonna need you to figure your shit out and stop dragging the entire household down with your drama.”

He says it very casually. Like he doesn’t have the fires of Hell packed behind every single word for putting the most precious boy in the world in a sticky situation. 

He thinks he does a pretty good job, too. Even if Nadia’s still focused on painting her nails at the kitchen table and not giving Lance what he wants.

Except, it’s pretty clear Lance always gets what he wants, so: “What the hell is even going on with you two, Nad? It  _ can’t  _ be that deep.”

That gets her attention. “Why’re you so nosy lately?”

Lance crosses his arms, summoning the self control he needs to continue without letting on  _ just how much  _ he actually knows. “I mean, when it’s making living in the same house as you a fucking nightmare, I feel like it deserves explanation.”

Even if he didn’t know - even if the ignorance he’s feigning was real - that bit, at least, is still valid. 

At the table, Nadia’s gone back to painting the deep red over her middle finger with deadly accuracy. “Ugh...he’s just been really weird lately -  _ not  _ that it’s any of your business.”

Lance watches. Keeps his cool. “Weird how?”

“I dunno just-...” she moves onto the next nail, brows etched in annoyance as she concentrates, “...jumpy, I guess.”

“You’re being a dick because he’s jumpy?” God, just get to the point. Get to the real reason so he can bitch her out.

“Ugh,  _ god  _ you’re so annoying.”

“Just spill it, Nadia.”

“Fine.  _ Fine,  _ okay?” Here we go. “If you  _ really  _ wanna know, we still haven’t done anything yet.”

“‘Done anything’... What, you haven’t fucked?” He’s too good at this. It’s probably a problem.

But, “No, he keeps pussying out before anything can start.”

Lance’s eye twitches. He swears to god it does. This would be the perfect opportunity to branch off on a lesson about using that phrase, but there’s no time because, “Wait. So you’re mad at him for not having sex with you?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you fucking  _ serious,  _ Nadia?” And oh yeah, now he can finally let loose.

His sister twists the brush back into the nail polish, her frown offended. “We’ve been together for half a year!”

“So? That doesn’t mean shit!”

“It totally means shit!” It’s a good thing Keith’s off somewhere on his lonesome again, because their volume is making this conversation less than secret. “I dunno what his problem is.”

Lance uncrosses his arms - props them up on the island counter and hunkers down to make a point. “You realize you’re being a complete  _ psycho,  _ right? You ever stop to think that maybe he just doesn’t want to?”

Nadia bristles, offended once again. “Why wouldn’t he? It’s been long enough.”

“Jesus, Nad. That’s not-...” God, she’s so dumb sometimes. “It’s just sex. Leave that poor kid alone.” 

He barely gets it out before he’s being answered with a sarcastic huff. “‘Just sex’? And this is coming from the guy who’s got a whole list of hookups on his phone?”

Lance resists the urge to throw around some dramatic gestures at that. Because hang on,  _ “First of all,  _ we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you and the nicest boyfriend you’ve ever managed to hold onto. And  _ second-” _

“How’re you-”

_ “Second of all,”  _ he stresses this one, making sure to keep that eye contact across the kitchen, “every single one of those people are cool with being on that list. No one’s forcing anyone to do anything-”

“I’m not  _ forcing  _ him-”

“You’re hounding him, Nad. You’re harassing him about it and then being a complete asshole when he doesn’t want what you want.”

That’s what does it. That’s what gets her to finally stand, the kitchen chair screeching against the tile floor as she grabs her nail polish and stalks toward the stairs. “I’m done with you. You’re supposed to have my back on this shit.”

And Lance makes sure to raise his voice after her - makes sure she hears it all the way down the hallway when he says, “Yeah, I’ll have your back when you stop being such a fucking predator!”

Her door slams.

The house grows quiet.

Lance snatches his keys from the counter and heads for his car.

 

* * *

 

 

He doesn’t feel any better. 

He kinda thought he would but he doesn’t.

He goes and lights up with Hunk and then gets some more bubble tea.

He feels better.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s now been a week. It’s been a week since Lance sat Keith down on that expensive white clubhouse chair, soaked and shaking and hands in his hair as Lance gave him his first blow job.

The jerk-off material he managed to get from that night still hasn’t lost its bite, regardless of the over-dramatic undertones still circulating around the house. And he’s thinking about it just as much as Keith most likely is, judging by the stutter still in his voice when Lance lingers a little closer than necessary to get around him in the kitchen. 

They’re not fighting  _ as much  _ \- Keith and Nadia - and Lance wants to take some credit for that. But they haven’t stopped completely. And there’s still tension lingering. And there are still nights where Lance will stumble on that poor adorable boy sitting off by himself somewhere.

Or, in this case, literally running into him in the hallway, Lance just finished with brushing his teeth after a late night at Pidge’s, and not really noticing the other boy’s presence until he’s literally in his arms.

“Sorry,” Keith whispers, but there’s a struggle behind it. Something strangled.

And it’s late - everyone else is asleep, for fuck’s sake - but it’s not so late that Lance misses the red in his cheeks. Or the heat coming off his skin where he’s latched onto his forearms to steady himself. Or, most importantly of all, the way the front of his shorts have tented in the dark.

Lance blinks. Can feel the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

Well  _ well.  _ Looks like someone was planning on sneaking in a quick bathroom jerk-off while the gf was asleep.

Lance glances purposefully down the hallway, too busy checking his sister’s closed bedroom door to notice the look of flustered alarm Keith’s sporting before using his hold to lead them both straight back into the bathroom.

“Wha-...” Keith’s at a loss for words, which isn’t exactly uncommon but it’s got a certain endearing lilt to it when it’s said through a whisper. “What’re you-”

Lance eases the door shut without a sound. Waits for the click. Turns, satisfied, and then starts his advance. Because how is he supposed to pass up a golden opportunity like this when it’s been literally shoved into his arms? And especially when there’s been so much negativity in the household lately. 

Keith needs this. 

Lance needs this. 

They both need this.

Keith takes a step back to compensate, but it’s not long before Lance has him flush against the wall, a single pointer finger coming down to tap playfully at the tip of Keith’s bulge. “You really wanna deal with this on your own?”

He has to whisper it. Everything has to be whispered. Everything has to be as dead silent as possible given the circumstances. 

But they can do that...right?

Lance kneels in front of him, the tile a little rough on his knees, but worth it for the look on Keith’s face when he gets his shorts down around his ankles.

And shit...this kid is  _ hard.  _ How long was he lying there debating taking care of himself?

Lance licks his lips - makes a real show of it and delights in the way Keith’s pupils dilate in the low lighting of the bathroom night-light as he takes as much of him in his mouth as possible. 

_“Oh-_...oh my god…”

It’s not the endgame. Lance isn’t satisfied with giving a little head and then letting this boy on his merry way. 

No, he’s got other plans for him. 

Which means he swallows him down and gets him sloppy wet and maybe enjoys it a little too much because he’s getting hard by the time he pulls off, open mouthed, and then gathers back to his feet with a hushed, “You ever watch anything with thigh-fucking before...?”

Keith’s swallow is thick - pulse is thick - cock is thick and warm and perfect when Lance drops his own shorts and then gets it slid between his thighs surprisingly easy. 

It’s easy because Keith’s not fighting it - hasn’t ever really  _ fought it  _ \- doesn’t ever do anything besides be nervous and follow instructions and try to make Lance happy and-

_ “Hhhn- w-wait…”  _ He’s got his eyes closed - hands on Lance’s shoulders - and they’re shaking like they always do but what’s the- “We can’t… She’s-...”

Right there.

She’s right there.

That’s what he’s trying to say.

And Lance hasn’t really considered the fact that she’s always been  _ not right there  _ up until this point. Hasn’t considered it until now. But… “So what…?” He’s pushing it. Might be. “So what, baby? We’ll be quiet.”

Keith’s inhale is shaky as he finally lets his eyes open. Only they’re scanning the ceiling. Searching for something. Composure? An answer to why he’s yet again half naked with his girlfriend’s older brother? 

Lance doesn’t move… Doesn’t dare push anymore… Because maybe-...maybe this is finally it. Maybe this kid can’t fuck with his good conscience anymore to-

The feeling of Keith’s cock nudging where it had been held still between Lance’s thighs is unexpected. Unexpected and...experimental…?

A heavy breath rushes from Keith’s nose...trembles a little as he rocks his hips forward again, a touch longer this time. 

He is. He’s indulging for a second. He’s going against what’s clearly screaming in his head and testing it a little and if Lance was a better person he would warn him. He would warn him that  _ oh...you poor little boy, once you start something like this it’s always almost impossible to stop. _

But Lance is not a good person. He doesn’t warn him. And there’s no point in trying because it’s too late anyway, Keith swallowing roughly and his lips parting as he starts to rock into him with more intention.

Lance drags him backward as gently as possible, Keith stumbling but following after him like he always does until they’ve reached the sink, Lance’s lower back resting against the edge so Keith can have more room to pretend like he’s about to stop. 

“Feels good, right?” he whispers, grin curling.

Keith doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t have to. Not with the way his breath hitches as those thighs clamp around him so invitingly. Lance makes sure of it. Makes sure it’s all the best it can be. Makes sure Keith is watching as he reaches down and pulls one of his hands up to cup the side of his face. 

He could spend the rest of his life under these hands...always so warm...always so fucking adorable in their lack of confidence… Lance loves these hands. More than he probably should. More than enough to tilt his head a little to nip at Keith’s thumb until he’s got it between his teeth.

Keith’s eyes open, hazy and lust-drunk like they are every time Lance is anywhere near his dick. They watch him as Lance teases a gentle bite at the tip, and then licks his lips and sucks his thumb into his mouth with hollowed cheeks. 

He groans - too loud - rocks his hips and gets his cock slick between Lance’s thighs like he probably told himself he wasn’t going to. And Lance is here for it. He’s here for the breakdown of self control and the nice friction that’s slid up to work against his balls like this, the heat spreading in his own stomach.

“What were you thinking about…?” he teases, smirk dirty as he lets Keith’s wet thumb rest on his bottom lip. “What got you so hard in there, sweetheart?”

Keith’s eyes have rolled shut again...breath has grown labored...hips have started a rhythm equivalent to a slow, heavy fuck as he says it, not even ashamed at this point, “...you…”

It’s what Lance wants to hear. One hundred percent. “Oh really…? Thinkin’ about me when you’re right next to your girlfriend...?”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah?”

“Y-...hhh...” 

Lance loves it when he gets like this - all breathy and steamy and as fucking hot as he is adorable. One boy really shouldn’t be allowed to be both, he thinks. And yet, here he is. Standing right in front of him. Fucking his thighs with a kind of impulsive hunger that he’s pretty sure he learned from Lance.

“What were we doing…?” Lance is talking too much. He knows he is. But hearing this kid spill secrets no one else has heard - dirty secrets about  _ them  _ \- shit, that gets him off quicker than anything. “Huh…? What were we doin’ baby?”

Keith swallows, head tilting to the side but brows furrowing as he works his hips. “I don’t-...”

“Mm?”

Another pause...then… “Don’t-...wanna say…”

Lance’s grin deepens. “No?” 

“N-...no…”

“How come?”

Keith’s pace is picking up speed - breathing is getting harder to control. So is Lance’s but there’s an obvious difference. 

“Hmmm it must’ve been good…” Lance teases, so entertained, so willing to let Keith keep his secret if it means he’s getting closer. “Must’ve been fucking _filthy…”_

Keith groans, his hand dropping and the other rising to grab at Lance’s hips. It’s a quick reaction time and it’s  _ confident  _ and it’s got Lance’s mouth dropping open. 

Because  _ oh… Okay, that’s something interesting. _

The mirror behind them is starting to fog, signaling that it’s not just Lance’s body temperature that’s rising. And he’s neglected himself long enough, he’s decided, getting a hand around where he’s now painfully hard and starting up a flick of his wrist.

They’ve gotta speed this up anyway. Nadia could wake up at any moment and Lance  _ really  _ doesn’t have any room to defend himself after bitching her out last week. And it’s not outside the realm of possibility with how ragged Keith’s breaths are getting, the echo of them bouncing off the bathroom walls. 

And Lance could-....

His eyes fix on the boy in front of him. On his lips. Slick and bitten red and parted.

Lance could kiss him. To shut him up. But he’s almost positive Keith hasn’t had his first kiss with a guy before and Lance may have taken his virginity but somehow there’s something nagging in the back of his head saying  _ no - don’t do that - don’t take that from him.  _ It doesn’t even make sense but Lance is bound and determined to listen to it and  _ ooooh fuck, he’s getting close. _

Keith’s eyebrows furrow cutely, his entire body shaking as he chases after the feeling in his own way and-

“Keith,” Lance is coming it tight - whispering kindly and tracing Keith’s bottom lip with his fingers and  _ ready  _ because he doesn’t trust him - “I want you to be very quiet, but I want you to come. I want you to come for me, okay?” Keith’s nod is immediate - so obedient - so  _ fucking obedient and -  _ “I want you to come for me-”

“Okay-”

“Come for me, honey-”

“O-...  _ Ahh-”  _ but Lance gets his hand over his mouth - gets it sealed over tight and muffles it as much as he can and gets off to the feeling of Keith’s hips stuttering against him, his come warm as it paints between his thighs and  _ fuck,  _ Lance can hear the tear in Keith’s shirt as he uses his free hand to force it up right before he accidentally comes on it.

Because that’s all they need. That’s all they fucking need. And holy  _ shit  _ that was a good orgasm, what the hell?

Keith’s head falls forward, his breath hot against Lance’s cheek until another metaphorical light bulb dings on.

Lance kneels again, keeping the shirt rucked up high and Keith’s attention falling to him hazily. Lance makes sure to keep it as he flicks his tongue out, and then slowly, ever so slowly, starts to clean his come up from Keith’s stomach.

Keith’s abs tense involuntarily, another one of those ‘why god - why me - why are you letting me see this’ faces encouraging Lance to keep going - to lick up the mess he made with long passes of his tongue. 

But come on, they can’t have Keith going back into his sister’s room with Lance’s jizz all over him right? 

It doesn’t take long. On the contrary, as much as he’d like to continue to draw this out, his task has to come to a close, Keith’s shirt falling back over his stomach and Lance pulling his shorts back up over for him and then giving his butt a little pat for good luck.

“There you go, sweetie.”

Keith looks like he’s a second away from dying. “Th-... Thanks…”

He’s so cute. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if he went back with Lance to his room instead of to his sister’s? Wouldn’t that be so fucking lovely?

Oh well…

“I’m gonna...um…”

Lance returns to reality, nodding and motioning toward himself and the little bit of mess on the tiles with a tiny, “Yeah I’ll get this - don’t worry.”

“Thanks.”

“You just have a good sleep.”

Keith’s trying to get his breathing back to normal - eyeing him a little suspiciously, but it’s not grounded in any truth. Lance swears. “Uh… Thanks…”

“Mhm.”

It takes several long moments of mental preparation for Keith to get himself together - for him to actually move from his spot and turn to the door. And when he does, he lets his hand rest on the doorknob for a second, another internal pep talk, and then he’s breathing out quickly through his mouth and nodding to himself and-

“Keith?”

He stops, blink curious as he looks over his shoulder at where Lance is smiling at him affectionately as he says it.

“Just come to me next time.”

It’s got Keith stalling - a little more than mind-blown at the offer - answering with a little: “W-... ...really...?”

“Of course.”

Mind-blown is definitely the right word. It’s like when Lance alluded to the fact that there was more to come after that first night. And... “...o-... ...okay...”

Lance hums. Takes in the adorable sight. “Good boy…” Memorizes the way Keith’s eyes have widened into awe where they’re stuck just short of Lance’s face. And then, “Okay. Good night, sweetheart.”

He’s answered with Keith’s head turning forward once again, “...night...” hand stuck on the doorknob but not turning it because… A pause… Heavy… “...good night…”

Lance’s grin turns warm. Fuck...Keith is honestly the cutest boy on this planet. Of course he’ll indulge him with one more. “Good night, honey.”

Another pause.

And then Keith is nodding to himself again.

And then he’s turning the doorknob and slipping out.

And Lance has to stop every muscle in his body from reaching out and pulling him back in.

 

* * *

 

 

He's gonna help this kid figure some shit out.

 

* * *

 


	8. Trans Dom Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "have you been good?" and "where are your manners?" w klance/trans!keith?
> 
> tags: praise kink, lance is restrained, keith is pretty dom-y, words pussy and clit used for trans keith

The bedroom is dark when Keith finally steps back in. Everything is right where he left it - the alarm clock on the nightstand turned away - the drapes drawn closed - his naked boyfriend stretched out and tied tight to the bed frame. 

Just like Keith left it.

There’s a fire that lights in Lance’s eyes as Keith slowly makes his way around to the head of the bed, watching in eager anticipation from where he’s stuck.

“Look at you…” Keith’s taking his time untying the restraints. The ones that pull Lance’s wrists up over his head on the bed first, each touch getting those eyes to track him. “Have you been good?”

The thin black fabric over Lance’s mouth is just loose enough to not leave any indentation, but more than secure enough to remind him of his place.

It has him nodding. No sound. Just the simple nod - an affirmation that’s got so much depending on it that Keith’s sure he would answer similarly even if it wasn’t true. Even if it was a lie. But Lance knows what happens when he lies.

The mattress creaks under Keith as he pulls the other wrist free and then leans back in front of the boy sitting there patiently for him - waiting - knowing the next step but also painfully aware that his ankles are still bound.

“You sure?” he teases - tone even - arms wrapping around to slide Lance’s wrists into leather restraints behind his back - “You sure you were good while I was gone?” - buckles tight and drawn without even needing to look.

He gets another nod. This time more adamant, breath heavy through his nose. Especially as Keith wastes no time letting his gaze drop down to Lance’s lap between them - or more specifically…

“How’s this feel, baby…” 

The bullet vibe strapped snugly below the head of his cock is on low - aggravatingly low - he had made sure of it before he left. 

The little hum of a whimper from the base of Lance’s throat confirms that, his eyes rolling to the back of his head before closing. 

Good.

Keith suppresses his smirk. Doesn’t even entertain the possibility of adjusting the toy, let alone touching Lance at all. Instead, he’s moving down to free the ankles still bound at the foot of the bed, only making an acception when he sees the reddened skin around Lance’s left one.

“Hm… Looks like someone was moving more than they should’ve been…” 

The sudden, distressed glint in Lance’s eyes says it all. Says what Keith already knows is true. That it was tied a little too tight in the first place. But he’s not going to admit to it now. That comes later. Now, however… 

The way he rubs his hand at the heated skin of Lance’s ankle is gentle...healing...balancing out the pain. It’s a small touch, but Lance’s eyes are closing again at the feeling. At the attention. Like he’s starved for it. 

And if that’s the case…

Keith pulls away from the bed - eye contact and a quiet but stern “stay”. His boots are heavy across the wood floor but that’s half the fun. The sound of it. How he has Lance trained to listen for them as he moves around downstairs while he’s tied down up here. Forgotten. But not  _ forgotten. _

When Keith reaches the armchair purposely situated against the wall right in front of the bed, he turns - more heavy footsteps - and then sits back, his head tilted like a king on his throne as Lance watches him from where he was left.

“C’mere.”

His royal order. 

It’s followed immediately, Lance pushing himself to the edge, arms tied back. He learned early and fast to test his leg strength before climbing off the bed - what used to be a problem. But they’re past that now.  _ He’s  _ past that - bare feet carrying him over and then he’s settled at Keith’s feet on the floor, his knees together and thighs pressed tight.

And he’s looking up at him. At Keith. Bangs sweaty. Pupils blown. 

Keith leans forward, forearms down on his knees as he brings his face in close. 

He’s assessing. Appraising.

_ Always  _ likes what he sees.

The little spark of satisfaction as Keith reaches behind to untie the fabric around his mouth is more adorable than it should be. Has him wanting to bring Lance up into his lap and give him everything he wants. But that’s not how it works. And anyway, this way is so much more fun.

Lance’s breaths fall slickly from his lips as Keith pulls away the fabric from his mouth, chest rising and falling from the anticipation, from the thrill of the knowledge that he’s on his own now, nothing forcing him and stopping him from running his mouth when he shouldn’t be speaking. 

Those are Keith’s favorite nights. When Lance just can’t help himself. But tonight he’s subdued. Almost drunk with arousal. Quiet on his own as Keith sits back in the chair and spreads his legs, patting his inner thigh.

“Come here.”

Lance knees forward, cock bouncing a little as he eagerly rests his head in Keith’s lap, his carry more relaxed because he eases his weight off to the side, legs stretching out beside him.

Keith’s grin is small. Satisfied. “Good boy…” Fingers come up to run through those sweaty bangs. 

He loves this boy’s head in his lap - heavy on his thigh - face relaxed and mouth so close to Keith’s center that it’s almost a tease for him too.

But... 

“So good tonight…” he hums, watching Lance’s eyelashes flutter closed at the praise - at the touch. “You did everything you were supposed to, didn’t you…”

Lance nods… Noses closer… Is getting greedy already…

“Tell me what you were thinking about…” he’s keeping him on track. Keeping himself on track. Distracting instead of pulling Lance’s face between his legs. “You know how long you were up here?”

Lance’s eyes are still closed. “Mm…”

“How long - use your words, baby…”

It’s dangerous. Everyone everywhere knows exactly how much Lance loves to use his words. But with how needy he is right now… “...-r…”

“Hm?”

“...hour…?” His voice is gravely. Sends heat straight to Keith’s core.

“Try again.”

“Mm...two?” And he’s nosing forward again. Slowly easing his face closer.

“Mhm - good job.” Keith brushes Lance’s bangs up off his forehead… Smooths a thumb over one of his eyebrows. Brings it lower to trace over his bottom lip and then press in, Lance’s mouth warm as he keeps it there. “Exactly two hours...”

Lance whimpers softly at that, that time no doubt dragging by so slowly up here for him. And he really  _ was  _ so good… 

“Think you deserve a reward?” It’s a question that always gets the same reaction - the nod - the affirmation. “Yeah? I think you do too.” Keith pulls his thumb away, warm with Lance’s spit. “What do you think I should give you?”

Lance’s lips part, eyes still closed and his breath hot as he presses his cheek against Keith’s thigh, mouth hungry and almost too close to still be considered “good boy” territory. It sends tingles straight to where he wants to be - to where Keith wants that mouth to be. But rules are rules.

“Sit up,” he orders, keeping his tone firm. 

It’s clear that Lance is torn. Stuck between already being so close to what he wants, but then the promise of more if he can just hold off for more time. 

But Keith only has to say it once. Only has to tell him to sit up one time, whatever needs to get worked out inside him worked out because he’s doing as he’s told, easing away and doing his best to get back on his knees without the help of his hands.

Keith watches patiently, never moving faster than his own leisure, especially when he sits forward to unbutton his pants, Lance’s eyes never leaving his lap as the jeans lazily slide down Keith’s closed legs...then over his boots...then dropped somewhere off to the side so he can sit back - a king in his throne - and then slowly open his legs wide in front of him.

Lance’s pupils are so blown that he can barely see any blue. Just arousal. Just lust as he stares, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he moves forward to zero in with determination but-

“Hey-” Keith’s foot halts him in his tracks - the sole of his thick black boot against Lance’s pretty bare chest. And honestly… The greediness of this boy… “Where are your manners…?”

Lance swallows, adam’s apple bobbing thickly against the column of his throat. 

He’s forgotten his place. 

“F-... Please…”

Keith blinks slowly... “Please what.  _ Hey.” _ ...lifts the toe of his boot up to settle under Lance’s chin and pull his attention upward. “Look at me.”

The eye contact is immediate. Almost as needy as how Lance says it, jaw moving against Keith’s boot. “Can-...I please eat you out…”

Keith regards him with another one of those slow blinks - analyzing - but then he pulls his boot away, Lance’s face staying still - attention on him - as it should be. And Keith can’t deny how wet he is already, so…

He scoots forward on the chair a little, knee bent and foot coming down to rest on the edge of it but not block himself when he says it, finally, music to both of their ears. “Go ahead.”

And fuck, it’s like he’s opened the floodgates. 

Lance swoops forward, arms bound behind him but not hindering him in the slightest as he finally presses his mouth to Keith’s heat, his tongue wasting no time in lapping up and licking between Keith’s already slick folds. 

And  _ oh yeah…  _ “That’s a good boy…”  _ Always  _ a good boy when he’s got his face in Keith’s pussy like this. Eager to please. Eager to taste. “Such a good boy for me…”

Lance hums, eyelids slid shut because he’s enjoying himself. Genuinely. Has said it time and time again, both during and in passing. Just wants to get his head between Keith’s legs and-

Keith’s toes curl in his boots as Lance swirls his tongue around his clit, getting it nice and juicy and aroused so he can suck it lightly into his mouth.

But Keith keeps his cool. Remains level-headed on the outside. Props the side of his head up with his hand on the arm rest to watch as he uses the other to slide through Lance’s hair as he works. As he bobs his head. As he drags his mouth from side to side against him - hot breath and hot tongue and everything Keith loves to watch.

“Good job…” he reassures, eyelids gone heavy, liquid heat pooling like lava. “That taste good, baby?”

“Mhm…”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm…” the vibration of Lance’s voice against him is to die for - “Mhm…” - sends those little tingles up his spine as Lance murmurs his answers like he’s in a trance - “Mmm…”

“How long should I let you do this, huh?” The flat of Lance’s tongue licks up between his folds before circling around his entrance and diving in. “How long should I let you eat my pussy like this?”

He doesn’t get an answer. Doesn’t want one. Knows  _ Lance  _ knows he’s going to be subject to whatever the outcome is anyway so he might as well just keep going.

“Hm… How ‘bout...as long as I left you up here...” He tilts his head, pleased with Lance’s hum, more interested in what he’ll do when he says: “Or maybe I should just tell you to stop.”

It gets those eyes drawn up to him, mouth still moving but very clear displeasure in that stare. At the thought of stopping. At the thought of-

“Sit up.”

Lance’s eyes squeeze shut - worries come to light - but he does as he’s told, his chest heaving as he sits back, face already wet with Keith’s slick.

And oh...Keith’s grin is heated. Amused.  _ God,  _ this boy is being so good tonight. 

He drops a hand, enjoying the desperate attention that follows it as he touches himself...takes his time and plays with his clit that Lance left nice and sensitive…dips a couple fingers into himself and strokes a little and then pulls them out, warm and dripping wet, Lance’s eyes following them as Keith holds them out in the space between them for him.

He takes them into his mouth without hesitation...sucks them clean...continues even as Keith starts a lazy pump of them in and out of his mouth.

Keith grins. “See what happens when you’re good…?”

Lance doesn’t say anything. Just keeps staring up at him with those puppy-dog eyes. Only shuts them again when Keith takes his fingers back and spreads his legs and gives him the “Go ahead, baby,” and Lance is diving back in. Loving it. Absence making the heart grow fonder. 

Even as Keith gets a wild streak. 

Calls another “Sit up”.

Makes him watch as he plays with himself. Robs him of the taste of his fingers in his mouth but rewards with a long stretch of uninterrupted eating out time after that.

He considers unbinding Lance’s hands from his back. Letting him use them to finger him  _ only.  _ But there’s something about this boy with bound wrists. Especially behind him. How it forces his shoulders back and squares his chest and shows off those beautiful muscles that he can’t use. Just his mouth. Just his tongue. Looking gorgeous as he does it.

Keith tilts his head to the side, appreciating the view. 

“Sing for me, baby…”

The vibrations against his swollen clit start right away - Lance’s voice - not a song but more of a steady hum - a heated moan - lips wrapped and sucking and the occasional flick of his tongue and those fucking vibrations…

Keith bites his lip, Lance’s moaning music to his ears. Each pitch is a different level of intensity and he uses this to his advantage. Reaches down and slips the bullet vibe remote out of the strap around Lance’s thigh. Raises the intensity a couple clicks and gets Lance’s voice bottoming out deep and heavy from the sensation and feeling like heaven against his clit. 

“You wanna come?” Breathy. Teasing. “Huh? You wanna come, baby?”

Lance’s moan of approval is loud. Buzzes beautifully. Has Keith chasing after it.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm-”

“Been such a good boy - you wanna come for me?”

“MMm-” another click higher - “ _ Mmm!” _

“Get me off first baby-” he’s close - hot breath hot tongue - Lance ready to die between Keith’s legs if it means he gets to come - “Get me off, baby-”

Another click - moans loud and clit throbbing - Lance squirming where he’s trying to sit still but it’s all so much - all so much - all so much - a tear falling from his eyes squeezed tight and-

“Come on- don’t stop-” Keith’s right there - right there - right fucking there - “ff-...  _ Fuck, Lance.” _

He tips over, thighs squeezing Lance’s face into him but thumb hitting that button, driving the bullet vibe up for him and Lance comes on himself - hot, thick bursts after being teased for so long - breath shuddering against where Keith’s still clenching through the aftershocks.

And fuck…

Fuck, Lance is so good for him.

He lets out a long breath, thighs relaxed and legs falling open again. 

And Lance’s face is still pressed against him...still dedicated...lips already parted from his heavy breathing as Keith gently takes him by the back of the head and helps him drag his mouth over his work...lazy, unhurried kisses...tongue slowly lapping up the cum starting to pool from his entrance…

It’s one of Keith’s favorite parts... 

Has him dragging it out a little bit in the afterglow...

Gets him to lean forward, Lance’s face practically dripping from the nose down as he licks into his mouth...tastes himself...sucks lightly on Lance’s tongue and then leans back to take him in.

He’s gorgeous like this… 

Blissed out… 

Eyes hazy but skin glowing…

Keith grins, pressing a kiss to his lips, “Good boy…” and then reaches to release the wrist restraints.  


End file.
